Forgiveness does not exist
by BlueLion20
Summary: Warnings for major character deaths. The Mountain Men have fallen. But so have many, many of the Sky People. Clarke, after she is betrayed, gets the survivors that are left and they run. After this, they know there is only one thing left for them. Revenge. Warnings for gore. People you care about will die in this. Princess Mechanic later on. Trigger warnings for graphic violence.
1. The Survivors of Mount Weather

**Forgiveness does not Exist:**

Disclaimer: Own nothing. Including the song "Cursed." That's Xandria.

Summary: Warnings for major character death. She was betrayed. The people who she was supposed to protect ordered dead at the hands of a power-obsessed maniac. But she survived. Bellamy, Kane, her mother and many of the others didn't, but she, Raven, Monty, Monroe and a few others did. Dax, Diggs, John Mbege and a few others are still alive. A lot of people that died in the first episodes are alive in this. Warning, mainly a tragedy.

Dark Clarke, dark Skaikru. Clarke, Wells and Lincoln are kind of the leaders now. If you're expecting a nice, fluffy group of 100, you are very wrong. Very short. At the most will likely just be a two-shot.

A note: The song lyrics will be italicized and have parenthesis around them. These things: ()

 **Forgiveness does not Exist:**

 **Chapter one:**

 **The Survivors of Mount Weather:**

The survivors stood at the top of the rock, edging out over the forest. The remaining 100 and the remaining Sky people, plus Lincoln stared at the decimated mountain. It was over. Any chance of peace between them and the Grounders was gone. Destroyed. The Commander had made sure of that. But luckily? Now they would never be found. Or at least found much later. The once tall, strong, wide mountain had crumpled, the stones, trees, moss, roots, tunnels and arch of the structure caving in after the huge series of explosions were released, the missiles being activated.

From where they stood, Clarke, Tim, John Mbege, Wells, Pascal, Monroe, Raven, Derek, Dax and Harper held resigned but nearly satisfied looks on their faces. The mountain was gone now, as was everyone inside. All of the Mountain Men's bodies had been destroyed. And Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper, Mr. Miller, Abby, Kane and the other 100's and Sky peoples' bodies had been destroyed, given what little of a goodbye they could give their dead friends and family, before Clarke and the others had burned their bodies outside of the mountain. The roaring pyre was at their backs.

Clarke moved to the others and nodded to the forest, face covered in restrained pain. Followed after by Lincoln and the others, they fled. It would be a long time, if things went well, before the Commander or any of the coalition learned where they were to go.

 **OOooooo**

Five hours earlier:

The butchery was countless. For both parties involved. The most important people had had bone marrow transplants. The highest soldiers, their children and the council that had been formed in case anything happened to either Cage or his father. It was a good thing for them that they had done just that, as Dante Wallace now lay dead in the main room where the control panel was and his dad had been killed at the hands of the Trikru Grounder, Lincoln who had hurried back to help Octavia and his friends.

But that didn't matter now. Not when everyone she had known and had come down to Earth with had been hollowed out, relieved of their bone marrow and she had lost the restraint over all her anger, shooting each and every council member in the head, holding the children of the remaining soldiers at gunpoint. Clarke hadn't found the tunnel to the main control room in time. When she had finally found Monty holed up in the main control room, Bellamy had been riddled with holes and killed by Emerson, the scum that had been taunting them about their people in Ton DC. Clarke's rage took a hold of her and she used her very first bullet of the gun she had, unloading it into Emerson's face. He screamed and had hurried away as he bled out.

 _(Keep yourself from falling into cursed deep waters)_

She had found his body half an hour later strewn out over the stone floor of the hallway.

At the last minute, after Clarke had seen that the Mountain Men had successfully killed most of her people, taking their bone marrow, including her mother's, Clarke snapped, grabbing the lever that Monty had then successfully transferred all the power to and pulled it and pushed it forward, allowing all the doors and locks open flooding the mountain with air, poisonous to the still vulnerable Mountain Men that remained.

Luckily for Clarke and for the members of the Sky People and 100 that still remained in this world, the number of the Mountain Men still vulnerable to the Earth's very air outweighed the number of the Mountain Men who had the bone marrow transplants. All those that were higher up were safe. The highest generals were still alive.

Piles and piles of scorched, dead bodies laid along the floor and hung over the tables in the main hall. Clarke felt tears begin to pool in her eyes at the sight of the now deceased Maya lying on the ground, face bloody. Had Jasper still been alive he would have cried over her. She would have begged his forgiveness. But these people took everything. They shot Jasper in the head and used his bone marrow. She saw the videos of it in the main control room where she had seen Monty hiding and bawling into his hands like a scared, traumatized child over his best friend. It was an accurate description, actually.

After Clarke had pulled the lever and forced herself to watch all the children wither and die painfully on the screens, not allowing herself to have a moment's peace-she needed to suffer what she did to the children, she and Monty came out from the main control room, taking Emerson's guns, arming themselves, the two of them went down to the dining halls and the other main rooms, finding more and more corpses, both members of the 100 growing paler by the second. They finally got to where the remaining living 100 and Ark people were held captive, screaming and crying. Raven, Monroe, Fox, Pascal, Derek, Wells, Harper, Dax, Diggs and several others were hanging against the wall or chained to the walls, crying and screaming. Clarke was sick to her stomach at the sight, crying out and rushing forward, letting them out as Monty went and locked up the Mountain Men guards that survived, holding them at bay with a gun, escorting them to rooms and locking them in with keycards so they wouldn't cause trouble.

Clarke and Monty went over the damage that they had been dealt. So many of their people were dead now. Bellamy. Octavia. She had been shot in the dining hall by guards. Jasper. Jessica. So many of them had been killed. Drilled and hollowed out of bone marrow. Thankfully Dr. Tsing's body had been found by the stumbling and whimpering Fox, who pointed it out to Clarke once the black-haired girl was free.

Once all of the living Sky People were freed from their bonds and the badly injured ones were helped along, carried by others, Nathan, in tears, screaming, lunged forward, collapsing onto the steel platform where his dead father lay, drilled into, drained of his bone marrow. Clarke watched, trying to keep her own tears at bay. She had failed them. She had failed all of them. She had failed to save the injured ones from losing their family, and she had failed in saving those that were now dead. She chanted the names of those that died here in this mountain. Those that were of the 100. Octavia, Bellamy, Jasper, and she repeated them so on and so forth.

Her eyes then lay on what she had been wanting to avoid acknowledging from the beginning. Her mother's corpse. Abby Griffin and Marcus Kane hung there, strung to the wall with bullets lodged in their heads, heads hanging over their chests, Clarke's mother's dark gold hair hanging past her face and Kane's brown hair hanging next to his pale ears. Bile rose in her throat, clogging it, her eyes burning. Her mother, dead. All of them. She had failed so many of them. Octavia and Jasper's deaths replayed in her mind. She saw the footage of Jasper's death and witnessed Octavia in real-time being shot. The proud at one time Sky prisoner, adopting free Grounder ways had fought back as predicted, but fists and a blade meant nothing to multiple bullets and eventually, two guards were able to gun her down, shooting her in the side and stomach.

As Octavia lay screaming on the ground, teeth grinding, trying to hold back more of her unbearable screams, one last guard walked up, aimed the barrel at Octavia's head and had fired. The last thing Octavia was able to do was glare up in defiance at her eventual executioner, before he splattered her brains all over the dining room floor.

 _(Keep yourself from falling into cursed deep waters)_

Clarke raised her hand to her face, other hand holding the loaded gun, her free hand wiping away the hot tears that were just begging to be allowed to flow. She had failed them. The Blake line was wiped out. Lincoln had lost his love. She had lost Octavia and Bellamy. Jasper and her own mother and Kane. All because she had been stupid enough to trust the Grounders. To trust the Commander and Anya.

This was her fault. Her fault and the fault of Anya, Lexa and all the Trikru outside of Lincoln. And her fellow leader, Bellamy, was dead.

She had to save what few were left.

She heard a familiar, but strained, weak voice speak to her, "Clarke…." Clarke turned to find a limping Wells who was steadying himself against Harper and Pascal. His dark eyes were on her, pain lingering in his orbs. "Oh god, Wells," Clarke whimpered, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." Wells shook his head, bloodspots covering his forehead and along his cheeks and along his sweat covered neck. "Don't, Clarke. This isn't your fault. It's the Mountain Men's. It's the Grounders' fault for leaving us." Clarke grimaced, pain gripping her as she remembered when the Mountain Men had grabbed Wells, Monroe and the others as soon as Lexa, Anya and their party had retreated.

She wanted to hate the Mountain Men. She wanted to. So badly. She turned her head back to her mother's body. Why didn't she hate them? Why? They took her mother's bone marrow and killed her. Murdered her. She felt her weeping fighting against what little restraint she had and defeating it, her shoulders shaking as the tears finally came. She knew why. She had seen them. All of them. Children. Innocent children who never had seen the ground. Had to have been kept safe their whole lives. Who had never hurt anyone. They had just wanted to live. All of the Mountain Men had. That's all they had wanted. Just like she and her people had just wanted to live. The Mountain Men had been the enemy. That was as clear to her as it was before. But she had always known it. The Grounders? They somehow had gotten her to believe that they could be trusted. Somehow getting her to believe that they were on the same side. She had tried so hard to prove that they would be of use to the Grounders, curing the Reapers, healing their warriors. But that hadn't been enough for them.

Despite everything they had been through, the Commander and Anya had proven to be just as trustworthy as the Mountain Men had been. Her teeth ground together as the burning river flowed freely down her face.

If they survived, if they salvaged enough to gather their people, they had to take their revenge. They had to make sure that the Commander knew that this would not stand. She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her left arm, looking back up at Wells, Pascal and Harper. "Harper, Pascal, stay with Wells. I'm going to get the others." Her voice sounded choked, like she could barely get her words out. The only small relief she got was when she saw the three figures in front of her nod. She ran past them, hearing Wells calling after her. She went to where she found Tim, Derek and Monroe who were taking the guns off the dead guards. She shouldn't have felt the thrill of delight at seeing such a thing, but she did. Seeing Tim, Monroe and Derek arming themselves quickly, getting ready to gun down those that had hurt their people, it made a bolt of satisfaction shoot through her. Her still wet eyes blazed in with anger as she took in the survivors of her people. There was no choice now.

They had tried to do it the right way. They had tried to do it through alliance. They had tried to do it through honor. And they saw where it gotten them. It had gotten a majority of their people killed, including Bellamy, Octavia, Jasper and Miller's dad. No mercy. Not anymore. The Grounders wanted to see them as "Sky Demons?" So be it. They would become Sky Demons if that's what it took to survive the Commander and her lies. No mercy for anyone. Not for the Mountain Men. Not for the Trikru. Not for Lexa and Anya. From now on, they would protect themselves and only themselves.

Pain filled her heart, thinking about the two Grounders besides Lincoln that had done so much for her and yet so little. Had she or any of the others ever meant anything at all to the three of them? Anya? Lexa? None of it had mattered. None of the Grounders outside of Lincoln cared. It was all an act. She knew that now.

"Let's go." Clarke said, forcing the pain from her eyes, the twisted heaviness in her chest remaining, as she stared hard at Monroe, Tim and Derek, making sure they understood the importance of this, "Bellamy's dead. We have to finish the Mountain Men off." She grit her teeth together, chest aching as she saw the horror creep onto the three once prisoners' faces. "No." Monroe whispered. "Bell…"

Clarke nodded, her resolve all that was keeping her from breaking out into sobbing. God, if she had just gotten there a few seconds earlier, Bellamy might still be alive. Her breath heaved out as Emerson's death flashed through her mind, killed by her hand, "Emerson was the one that did it. We should have killed him when we had the chance. I should have….." Clarke looked away from them grieving. "I shot him. I wished I could have had more time to make it slower for him. Octavia is dead too. The guards shot her in the dining hall. We need to avenge them. The Mountain Men must pay for what they've done."

Her breath was shaky, knowing she was just as responsible for this as the Mountain Men and the Grounders were. She had trusted the Grounders. She had been the one to extend their trust and she had gotten several of them captured. She deserved their hate if they hated her. She wouldn't blame them at all for it. She stiffened when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Clarke winced, barely able to turn around and face who was touching her shoulder, startled at the look of conviction on Monroe's face as the other girl held the hefty, black "light machine gun" under her left arm. "Clarke," Monroe said, voice firm, eyes full of pain, "We'll gun these bastards down. I'm your girl. Just show me where to shoot and I shoot." Monroe turned to Tim and Derek who had also both been there when Lexa and Anya had proclaimed their selfishness and betrayal, walking away from the mountain. All three of them knew that Clarke had failed them, but Clarke saw no indication that they were going to leave her.

Tim and Derek both took the safety off their respective M27 rifles, cannons aimed at the roof, steel, murderous resolve on their faces. Clarke again knew that she shouldn't have felt such flows of relief, but god, she did when she saw this. Monroe, Tim and Derek were all telling her the same thing. _We're with you._ And more than anything else, _This is war._

Clarke felt a pained, unstoppable grin from growing on her face. "Follow me," She hissed, nodding towards the stairs, "We're finishing off the remaining Mountain Men. All of the children and the people that tried to help our people are dead," Clarke felt more and more guilt lance her heart. "There is no one else to try to spare. All of them will try to kill us first unless we kill them. Shoot on sight." Clarke couldn't even believe that she was saying those words. That she was ordering this massacre, but what else could they do? What was left for them? Except revenge. Except killing. They had tried trust. They had tried peace. They had tried negotiation and they had seen where that had led them. To an actual dead end. Now they had no choice left, but to pave the road with the blood of their enemies.

Clarke, power, rage, pain and grief fueling her, making her push forward to the door where the stairs went. "Attack," She ordered in a loud voice, hearing several clicking sounds of safety pieces of rifles and machine guns being pulled back and several footsteps following her as she ran up the stairs with her small gun, leaning down and scooping up a rifle that she found next to a bloody body of a fallen soldier, readying it as she, Monroe, Tim, Derek and several more of the guards and the armed remaining 100 flooded the Mountain with bullets, attacking any they saw outside of their own people.

 _(Have you been to the water_

 _Have you gone with the tide_

 _Have you heard of strange creatures_

 _Beware of the Moonlight)_

Gunfire rang throughout the mountain for what felt like hours. Clarke wasn't sure when it had finally come to an end. She could still hear the ringing of thousands of bullets singing through the air, against the metal walls, even after it all ended. All that was left, surrounding all of them were piles and piles of decimated bodies.

John Mbege and Bree reloaded their guns, despite it being clear that no one else was alive that could possibly come at them, bearing guns. Mbege, Bree, Tim, Monroe, Derek and Monty all had hardened hateful looks in their eyes as they scouted out the rest of the mountain's corridors. Clarke sighed, mourning the loss of what little innocence they had once possessed, now gone because of her. Because she had trusted the Grounders. After this was over, she was going to step down. She had no place to lead them. Not after this. She had failed them.

Tim, Raven, Harper and Wells were the most responsible of the group. She'd ask them to take over. They would protect the others.

Myles stepped forward, armed with his M27 rifle, aiming the barrel of the gun at the one remaining squirming soldier, trying to crawl away. The hardened face of the once sweet young man darkened with malice and he pulled the trigger. The soldier's skull split open, blood hitting the nearest wall in a bloody mess. The spry young man turned back to the rest of the group, head of smooth dark hair swishing with the movement of his head as he spoke with energy, "The rest of these fuckers are gone." He grinned a grin that seemed to be so unlike what Clarke remembered of him before the mountain. She sighed, the pain in her heart unrelenting. It looked like forever she would have an image of her friends "before" the Mountain and then an _"after"_ the mountain. The "after" versions were heartless. Like she needed to be if she wanted to help them survive.

They had to be monsters if they wanted to survive. Mercy had been convenient for a time when she and the others had thought that mercy was an option. But it wasn't now as it turned out. The Commander and Anya had proved that mercy was likely never an option. The Grounders were heartless. Emotionless. Mindless. Killing machines. Without any mercy. So they had to be the same to survive them.

She, Raven, Myles, Tim, Wells, Harper, Derek, Pascal, John, Bree, Monroe, Monty, Fox, Diggs, Dax and all the others. They had to be monsters. That was just how it had to be. They would cut a bloodied knife mark along the land so all of the Grounders would remember them. She would step down, but she would help. She would be Tim, Wells, Raven and Harper's advisor. If they would still have her after what she did. If they decided they still wanted her in their group, she'd help them, in any way she could.

Before she could think further, she noticed that Tim, Myles, Derek, Monroe and the others were looking at her now for guidance. They were awaiting her instructions. She felt like she had been punched as she saw who was looking at her. Every last one of the Sky People who still lived was looking at her now for guidance. The remaining 100. It made her ache as she realized there were more of them that had survived than she thought there would be. It ached, because god, looking at them now? At their hardened faces, covered by dirt and blood, eyes like cold steel, it made her almost wished she had died in Ton DC. The rest of the guards looked at her. Nathan was looking at her now, waiting for her to give him an assignment to go on next. The man's father was dead and he had enacted vengeance upon the Mountain Men. He wanted to know what they should do now.

Clarke almost whimpered as she looked at everyone else, noticing Raven was being carried by Dax and Diggs and Wells was still being carried by Pascal and Harper. With Kane and her mother _and_ Bellamy dead, there was only one person they knew of who usually controlled things and they were looking to her now for what to do next. Clarke shivered, thinking about that. She was the only one in power now. That was dangerous. Even if she did in fact step down, being a lone leader would be dangerous. Not just for her but for everyone else. What if she made a foolish choice like she had with Lexa and Anya, trusting them? She couldn't. She was going to step down. And her first piece of advice to the new leader would be to not lead alone. There should be three at the most. That was where Tim, Wells, Raven and Harper came in.

But for now, she'd help them get out of the mountain. She thought about what to do next when she heard footsteps behind her. She froze, eyes narrowed. Weren't the Mountain Men all dead now? Either from poisonous air on her part or a rain of bullets for the ones that had had the successful bone marrow transplants? She then noticed Myles, Tim, Monroe and the others aim and cock their guns at something behind her, glaring at whatever was coming. Clarke slowly turned around, gripping the handles of both her guns, planning to hit whoever was coming, as she knew that she had run out of bullets a while ago, all of those bullets lodged into the brains and chests of the remaining Mountain Men.

Her enraged, icy blue eyes lost their anger when she saw Lincoln standing in the middle of the room, covered in blood from his chest down, save for a few specks of blood on his face and neck. His hands were gripped around two blades. Both curved wickedly and clearly Grounder made. Clarke recognized these weapons anyway. They were weapons Lincoln used regularly and she had seen him use them before. They were soaked in blood, caked with meat that Clarke knew with grim satisfaction was the flesh of the Mountain Men. Should she have been so thrilled by a massacre? By an actual genocide she had helped commit? To order to have taken place? No. It was despicable. But they had to become monsters now, so maybe it was fitting that she delight in something only a monster could delight in.

"All of you," She yelled back to the other 100 and the guards, "Stand down! Lower your weapons. It's just Lincoln. He's one of us."

"Right," Tim snorted and Clarke frowned when she didn't hear his weapon clicking at all like it should when it was lowered, "He's a Grounder, Clarke. They left us. He'll betray us too." Lincoln looked like he was about to spit out something and Clarke knew exactly how grief stricken he must have been. Seeing her mother hanging dead like that in the prison of this mountain had been devastating and she knew would end up being a trauma for her for the rest of her life. It would haunt her every waking moment, as it should for her failure.

Clarke spoke up before anyone else could speak, "You're point, Tim? Lincoln only left the mountain because he was forced by the Commander to leave. They actually forced him to be dragged away. You know that. You saw it." Clarke looked at Lincoln's haunted, dark eyes and said, smiling, endless gratitude, admiration and affection for the selfless, loyal and noble Grounder surging in her veins, "He came back even though he didn't have to. He came back for us. He came back when he knew he could be exiled or killed. He risked everything for us." Clarke walked up to Lincoln, smiling at him sadly as he looked down at her. "Thank you, Lincoln. Octavia…..God….."

She lowered her head, tears threatening to break free again as she thought of the wild, fearless girl that she loved, that she and Lincoln both loved. A wonderful, loyal, fearless girl that she had failed like she had failed everyone else. She heard Lincoln's strained, but gentle voice, "Don't. It is alright, Klark kom Skaikru. She died a great death. She died a warrior." She heard how is voice broke when he said those words and looked up at his face, seeing the sorrow carved into it as he lowered his head, dark eyes closed. Clarke sniffled, putting the handgun into her pocket and reaching a now free hand out to Lincoln's and he slowly put his weapons away, taking her hand in his bloody left one. Clarke nodded to him and he nodded back. Clarke turned around and glared at her people, wanting to make sure that they understood that Lincoln wouldn't betray them before she stepped down.

"Lincoln is one of us!" She yelled into the crowd of bloodied people, "He is our people! He came back for us. He's killed for us. He's fought with us. He might be a Trikru, but he's one of us too." She stared hard at them, waiting for them to try and go against her words, to argue with them. Wells and Harper were looking at Tim. "Tim," Wells said, nodding, "She's right. Lincoln came back for us. He went against this commander's orders. The _Commander,_ who is the most powerful Grounder on Earth. He did that for all of us. Not just Octavia. He's one of us." Tim started thankfully to lower the gun, eyeing Lincoln behind Clarke and eventually nodded, fully lowering the gun.

 _(Down falls the light as they rise from the sea_

 _In comes the night, give your soul, pay your fee_

 _Living a curse, they were born by their sins_

 _Soon life and death will become evil twins)_

There was a collective release of relieved breaths in the room. "What do we do now, Clarke?" Monroe asked, looking at Clarke expectantly. Clarke took a step back, thinking about it, chaos running throughout her mind, decay and death surrounding all of them as everything weighed on her. She couldn't give up now. Not now. They had killed everyone in the mountain that had threatened them. But what now? What did they do now? Her mother, Kane, Bellamy, Jasper, Miller's dad, Octavia, they were all dead. She was the only leader for them right now left. And they needed to figure out what they were going to do next. What did they do? Did they take the mountain? Claim it as theirs? Clarke sighed, thinking about their situation, sorrow becoming overwhelming for her. If they were going to survive this world, they'd need the close help of Lincoln. Someone who had lived on and survived Earth their whole life. If she was going to step down, then Lincoln should also be a leader in the new council.

She turned to Lincoln. "Lincoln," She said, her voice somehow coming out in a firm tone instead of sounding weak and frail as she felt. "I trust your advice. You know this world better than any of us. What do we do with this mountain? Do we stay here? Do we leave? Will we be safe if we take this mountain as ours?" Lincoln looked at Clarke and the rest of the Sky People that he knew now were his people. "This Mountain will last us. For a long time. But in time, the rest of the tribes will notice that the Mountain Men are not abducting their people. They will notice that the Mountain Men are not leaving the mountain at all. They are likely watching the mountain now and will notice that no one has left. Eventually, they will begin to fight over the mountain. If they do that, we will be trapped here. And while the Mountain Men might have many resources stowed away, we would not be able to live on them for the rest of our lives. We would need to go out and get more."

Clarke nodded, sorrow thickening in her chest. A part of her had suspected that. She had dreaded that as a possibility, but knew that it was a likely possibility. Her anger towards the Trikru and the other Grounders was increasing by the moment. Why couldn't they just let them be? Hadn't they betrayed them already? Left them to die? Why couldn't they just leave them be? Rage, burning rage boiled in her chest and throat. God, if she ever got the chance, she'd kill as many Grounders as she could. She knew it now. She knew she was capable of it. Lexa and Anya had made sure of that. Now that they had proven that they were as trustworthy as the Mountain Men were, she knew she could kill them the same as she had the Mountain Men.

Even if she wasn't going to be leading the Sky People into battle against the Grounders anymore, she was going to make sure she had much of their blood on her hands as possible. For herself. For Bellamy. For Octavia. For her mother. For Miller's dad. For Kane. For Jasper. For Raven. For Fox. For Miller. For Wells. For Tim. For Harper. For Derek. For Monroe. For Monty. For all of them.

For Lincoln too. He lost his Octavia because of them just as much because of the Mountain Men and because of Clarke herself.

She met Lincoln's gaze again. "What do we do now then? Do we leave?" Lincoln nodded, face hardening. "It would be wise. But if we leave, then that leaves the mountain and its resources in the hands of the Trikru or any of the other tribes that try to claim it."

"Oh, that's just great," Raven groaned from where she barely stood between Diggs and Dax. "So we're fucked if we stay but we're fucked too if we leave. That's just great. What the hell do we do, Lincoln?" Raven was practically gasping the words out as she desperately tried to stand on her one working leg, wincing the whole time. Clarke hissed, seeing this, "Diggs, Dax, stop her!" Both young men did as she instructed and restrained her a bit from trying to stand. "You're not healed yet." Clarke said urgently. "Please just try to ease up until we find a place to rest." She looked around the room, eyes finding a few unoccupied chairs. She pushed them together, gesturing for Diggs and Dax to place Raven down onto them. Both young men did as she instructed, carrying Raven over to the chairs, gently laying her out over them, despite Raven's acidic growling. Once the mechanic was fully laid out and Dax made sure that the woman was not in pain, it was only then he really let her go. Clarke smiled in appreciation at Dax's care.

Ignoring Raven's glare, Clarke turned back to Lincoln, fresh pain and grief still festering strong, "Where do we go then? Do we take whatever we can and run? Should we take all the resources? Camp Jaha has a few vehicles from the Ark that we could use to go to the mountain and get the resources." "Yeah, but," Pascal's voice became uneasy, "Would that help us with the missiles? If the Grounders take the mountain, wouldn't they have the missiles too?" Lincoln nodded, much to Clarke's growing horror. Sure, she didn't think of the Grounders as being that into weapons like missiles, but they were human beings. When they realized they had an efficient and effective way of wiping out their enemies and fast, they, like most humans in history, would use it to their advantage. That was what had led to the near end of humanity 97 years ago after all.

Her teeth clenched. Dammit. Pascal was right. Raven was right. Lincoln was right. This was a damned if you did, damned if you don't situation at its finest. Clarke closed her eyes as she thought about their possibilities, limited as they were. The missiles, they were too big, too hefty, too long to be able to transport. But the guns, the bullets, the grenades and the other explosives? Those were all transportable. Smaller. Easier to hide. They could just hide all those weapons on their persons. Simple enough. But what to do about the missiles that the mountain contained? Unless…..

Clarke opened her eyes and swiveled her head to look at Raven who was grumbling painfully under her breath. "Rae, is there a way of using a remote control to blow up the missiles? If we're out of the mountain, I mean?" Raven looked startled by the question and her eyes widened, the edge of her lips quirking. "You want to blow this place up?" She flashed some of her teeth at the outrageous implication of what Clarke had asked. "Sounds like my kind of plan. This place should have been blown to bits a long time ago." Clarke nodded. Agreed. And if they left soon, after looking after all their wounds, taking all the resources and weapons, then there would be nothing left living in the mountain. No one would get caught in the crossfire. The mountain would be no more and the Grounders couldn't use it to their advantage.

"The missiles." Clarke began, a plan finally starting to formulate in her now clearing mind, once taken over by panic, "we need to blow them up. Once we're out of here." Clarke held up her empty right hand, three fingers. "Step one. I need to look at everyone's cuts and injuries." She lowered one of her fingers. "Step two. We gather as much supplies as we can get. Medicine, food. Portable weapons." She looked from Pascal, Tim, Derek, Nathan Miller, who still looked like he was going to burst out crying, the now hardened faced Monty-(Clarke swore that that sight would never stop being bizarre and frightening to her), to Dax, then to Diggs. "Do any of you know how to drive the vehicles that we have at Camp Jaha?"

At the startled looks she was receiving, Clarke looked back at Lincoln, "Lincoln, I'm sorry, but we need your help here. Do you know the tunnels to get from the mountain to Camp Jaha? Without being seen by other Trikru?" Lincoln looked surprised at the question. But Clarke saw he understood and he nodded, eyes shinging with understanding and resolve. "Sha, Klark. I will get your people to the…..the "cars," Lincoln tried the word with narrowed eyes, making a small smile touch Clarke's lips, "And bring them back to get the supplies." Clarke nodded, relieved. "Okay." She turned back to the others. "I still need to ask, is there anyone here who can drive those cars?" An understanding now existing between all of them about what Clarke wanted to know. Nathan Miller raised his head. "I know how." "Same." Dax announced quietly, "One of the guards showed me, Tim, Pascal and Monroe how to do it before we got captured." Monroe, Tim and Pascal were all nodding. "Okay," Clarke said, she looked at everyone, "Then can you five get the vehicles and help transport as much food and medicine and weapons out of here? After that, we have to get out of here." She looked at Raven. "And that's where _you_ come in, Rae. I need you to prepare the missiles before we take off. And after we're out? I need you to detonate the mountain when we're far away."

Raven's eyes went wide. She grinned before she could stop herself. Her weak laugh sounded husky, but broken. She glanced at the others. "So, we're going to go World War Four on the Grounders, huh? I guess it's about time." She looked up at Clarke. "What changed? The Commander stabbing us in the back?" Clarke winced, but nodded. "Yeah." More anger than Clarke could help slipped into her voice, "I really screwed us. I never should have trusted the Commander. Or Anya. God, I can't believe I was that stupid." Clarke shook her head, glaring at the ground. She felt her arm being tugged and she looked at Lincoln, startled. He stared at her hard. "Don't say that, Klark." Lincoln insisted, "This wasn't your fault. Heda and Onya made their choices. They are the ones who have dishonored my people. They have dishonored you with their lies. They are the ones that are to blame for this bloodshed. This is not your burden, Klark. It is theirs."

 _(Bound to go where the wind blows_

 _Bound to serve the unreal_

 _Bound to dwell in deep waters_

 _Greed and fear cast their seal)_

Clarke felt her chest ache and she fought the urge to hug the Grounder. Lincoln. What did they ever do to deserve him? Clarke offered a wet smile to Lincoln. "Mochof, Linkin." She said. She turned to the others. "We have to put this in motion. We need to get all of the supplies we can get out of here. And I need to look at everyone's injuries. I'm going to check everyone's wounds. Then I'm going to send you out of the mountain to get the cars," Clarke looked at Nathan Miller, "Lincoln will lead you. I want you to take Pascal, Dax, Tim, Monroe and Diggs with you."

Miller nodded, grim-faced. Clarke knew that he was trying to bear through all this, having his dad's demise on his shoulders, on his conscience, weighing on his heart painfully and endlessly. But he looked at each one of the once prisoners that Clarke had instructed to take with him and called out, voice firm and hard, "Do all of you understand that?" Tim, Monroe, Dax, Diggs and Pascal looked startled at the question, but stood at the ready in the end and nodded, all answering sharply, "Yes, sir!"

Clarke felt the tremendous relief, along with the aching guilt over what she was having her people do. They had made this home of the Mountain Men a tomb and now they were making it into a minefield. They were all now about to relish in the destruction of a mountain that had been here before the bombs had hit. And were about to destroy a home that had once belonged to a whole civilization. Clarke shuddered, the real horror of what they were doing. She forced the growing repulsion down. This was what they had to do. It was ugly. It was horrible. It was amoral. It was survival.

They had to survive the Mountain Men. And now they had to survive the Grounders.

Nothing more than that.

"Lincoln," Clarke said, looking at the man that had saved them countless times at the expense of nearly losing his own life, if not certainly his home in the Trikru. "I don't want to ask you this. But please, lead them through the tunnels so they don't get lost or killed." Lincoln, their Lincoln, the man that Octavia loved, didn't even hesitate. He nodded. "Sha," He answered, "Skai Heda." Clarke almost gaped at Lincoln when he said that. She felt him release her hand and he stepped away from her, dark eyes shining with purpose, masking his pain.

He nodded to the others. "We need to be healed first, sha?" Clarke nodded, heart warming, even if it was only a little at seeing Lincoln be here for all of them after everything. She was just so grateful to have him here. She looked at Monty. "Monty, do you know where the medical supplies are? Where the bandages and the antibiotics all are?" Monty seemed startled, but went back to being focused. "Right," He mumbled, walking to the door to where Dr. Tsing's body was. "This way. Her lab is this way." Clarke let go of Lincoln's hand and walked after Monty. She heard the weak footsteps following behind her.

They reached the medical room surprisingly quickly. Clarke numbly ignored all the gasps she heard from the sight of the bloodied bodies across the floor, including Tsing's. She found the platter of stainless, metal medical tools. On the ground was the bloodied drill. Clarke narrowed her eyes at the tool. She wondered who's blood that belonged too. Her mother's? Raven's? Kane's?

She ignored the morbid thought and went to the glass cabinet filled with antibiotics.

She grabbed the nearest heavy object, the neck of a bowed lamp, and picked it up, slamming the base of the lamp into the glass doors, shattering them to pieces. She heard a few yelps behind her that she recognized as Fox and Harper's. She ignored that. Even if she understood the surprise, they didn't have time for hesitation. She reached into the cabinet, tossing away the lamp and using her other hand as well to loot the cabinet. Soon she had multiple bottles and vials of antibiotics, medical tubes and syringes. She placed all of them out onto a cart that had a silver platter on top of it for medical tools to be placed. She found a group of different rolled up bandages and stitches placed on top of a short cabinet up against the wall. She grabbed all of them and put them on the platter on top of the cart and started pushing the cart towards the group who backed up, some of them limping back as she passed through into the room.

She looked at Raven and Wells. "You two first. You're the most badly injured. Let me look at the two of you." Pascal and Harper helped Wells over and Dax and Diggs tried to do the same with Raven, but the dark-skinned woman struggled in the two young men's grasp. "Hold it!" She yelled. "The others-" Raven swiveled her head to look at all the others. Looking from John to Coleen. Clarke spoke up sharply, "Rae, they're hurt, but just not as bad as you and Wells. You need to be looked at first. Don't fuck around. I saw the screen. I know what the Mountain Men did. You and Wells need medical attention more than anyone else. Everyone else is dead. The two of you are the most injured. And have the highest priority. Deal with it. Dax, Diggs, bring her to the table. Now."

Diggs and Dax, both looking nervous, pulled Raven along to a bare operating table, pulling her up and splaying her over the length of the table and Clarke winced as Raven whimpered at the likely agonizing sensations she was assaulted with because of the movements.

Clarke walked over to the table, bringing the cart over as Dax and Diggs stood on opposite sides of each other, letting Clarke get to Raven. Clarke dragged the cart up next to them, picking up the antibiotics to clean the wound. "I'm sorry, Rae," Clarke said sadly, "This will hurt. I have to clean your wounds so they won't get infected."

Raven stared up at the ceiling, glaring. "Just get it over with." She heaved out.

Two hours of excessive and painful, grueling medical examination went by and by the end of it, Clarke was operating from the seat that Dax had brought to her and by the end of it, Raven had been fully looked at and patched up, then Clarke had made sure she had done the same for Wells. By the end of the two long, exhausting hours, almost everyone that needed severe treatment had been looked at. Now only a few with the occasional cut and bruise had been overlooked, but to lighten Clarke's current load, they had taken it upon themselves to put the antibiotics Clarke had pointed out to them on themselves and put gauze over the small cuts.

Now everyone had been looked at. It was time for step 2 of the plan. Clarke looked at Miller and at Lincoln, breathed heaving out, body slick with sweat with the work she had done, gratefully taking the seventh glass of water that Coleen had brought to her, knowing where the bathrooms were and knowing she'd likely have to go soon. She didn't like the idea of them using the facilities in this place anymore than she had to, but if they were going to take the resources they needed, might as well make use of the toilets too.

"Miller," Clarke began, looking at Nathan, who was aggrieved more than understandably, "You and Lincoln now need to go to the carts at Camp Jaha. Lincoln? Lead the others to Camp Jaha through the tunnels. There won't be any Reapers or Mountain Men left. The only problem left will be Trikru people looking through the trees. Make sure you're not seen."

Lincoln nodded, dutiful. "There's a tunnel near Camp Jaha." He said. "That's how all of you were captured after the fight with Anya's army. I can take all of them through it." He went around to Nathan Miller, followed after by Dax and Diggs, who looked nervously at Clarke, even though she had instructed that they leave her out over a few chairs for her legs to stretch out and a place for Raven to lay back against and the now full leader of the Sky People just nodded. "Go. Raven's sitting down, so it's fine."

She ignored Raven's snaps of, "I don't need a freaking babysitter!" She then looked at Pascal. "You know how to drive go with them. Derek! Go help Harper with Wells. Derek nodded, startled and went over as Pascal gradually let Wells go. Wells grunted softly as Derek took him and he and Harper held him up. Pascal walked over to the others and they reached the door leading out of the room. Clarke met Lincoln's eyes. Lincoln gave her a knowing look and Clarke wondered if he would still give her such a look of reverence if he knew that she had left Octavia to die in Ton DC. But still, there it was. Such a look of respect. It was a look she knew well. It was a look that Kane, Octavia and Bellamy had used to give her before she had completely failed them.

That look told her, _You can do this._

It was a look that Clarke now despised with her whole being.

Lincoln and the others soon disappeared from view and Clarke turned to Monty and Raven, eyes intense. "Rae? I need you to get those missiles ready. Blow the mountain to bits. Do whatever the two of you need to do to rig those missiles and get them ready for exploding when we leave the mountain. When we're far enough away, detonate them." Raven and Monty both froze at the iciness and resolve in Clarke's voice and the stony look in her eyes. What hurt Clarke worse was the shocked look on Wells's face as well as the startled Harper and Derek. Fox, Bree, Tyler, Michael, Zach, Coleen, Elena and the rest of the remaining 100 were also shocked by Clarke's ruthless tirade. "Damn." Raven breathed out, her eyes wide. "What did those Grounder bitches do to you?"

Clarke somehow restrained herself from flinching. It was no secret what had happened between her, Anya and Lexa. Lexa and Anya had betrayed them. Betrayed her. And everyone knew it. It wasn't that hard to figure out, even if one hadn't been with the mass of people that had been captured in the second wind of the Mountain Men's rush of soldiers. First there had been an army ready to rescue everyone inside and suddenly there wasn't? Not that hard to figure out.

"The Commander and the general just proved that they were no better than the Mountain Men." Clarke said grimly. "Nothing else besides that." Her face darkened. "I was a fool to trust the Commander and her general. But no more. We kill them. If they try to kill us, we kill them first. Trikru. The other tribes. No matter who they are. We kill them first." She took note of Monty and Raven's shocked faces, but watched with some relief that they did not object. Raven said quietly, "So, where do you want me to start, Princess?" Clarke couldn't stop a smile, relieved and almost touched at the familiar nickname. She smiled and looked at Monty who nodded, face a sheet of hard anger. She could see his need for vengeance in his eyes. He would help her. He would go to the ends of the Earth to make sure their people were safe. From Grounders and otherwise.

 _(Down falls the light as they rise from the sea_

 _In comes the night, give your soul, pay your fee_

 _Living a curse, they were born by their sins_

 _Soon life and death will become evil twins)_

She ignored the hurt look on Wells's face and focused all her energy on Monty and Raven.

Clarke, knowing what they had to do, began telling her two beloved friends what parts around the mountain to set the bombs up.

Two more hours later, and Clarke and everyone else that needed to, went to the bathroom, with some help needed of course. And Raven and Monty had successfully stationed all the detonators where they were needed after Monty had located the spots where the missiles were being kept inside the mountain and the tunnels. Every last missile that they could find, after Monty zeroed in on them on the computers in the mountain's main control room, had been locked on with a detonator that Monty and Raven had set to blow in two hours. An hour later, Lincoln arrived with Nathan Miller, Pascal, Monroe, Tim, Dax and Diggs.

Clarke ordered Monty and Raven to hold the detonators they had close for when they left the mountain and to set the missiles off.

When Lincoln, Nathan and the others got back, Dax stepped up next to Lincoln, looking at the older man cautiously as he kept his hand on the butt of his gun. "The Ark carts are right in the tunnel. Right outside of the mountain. They're not anywhere the Tree guys can find them." Dax narrowed his eyes in concern. "I don't think. Anyway, the carts are in the tunnels. For when we can load stuff up." Clarke smiled, for once, feeling like they might really be making progress now.

"Okay," She said, controlling her voice to come out softly, but confidently. "Great job, guys. Now let's load everything up. Food. Water. Weapons. Medicine. Everything we can get our hands on that we don't want to blow up or fall into the hands of the Trikru. We take it." A chorus of tired "Rights!" rang through the room and soon people were dispersing. Monty grabbed the walkie-talkies and tossed them to people, telling them to keep them close. Miller brought them to the carts to show them the extra carts they had connected to the back of the carts, showing how much they could load up. Gradually, with Clarke, Nathan Miller, Lincoln and Raven's guidance, they had gone through the mountain and had gathered as much as they could that would fit on all the supplies they could get. Vegetables, plastic water tanks, canned goods, dried fruit, loaves and loaves of bread, bars of chocolate, anything else they could get their hands on. More walkie-talkies, more advanced than their own. Barrels of different medicine, syringes and gauze rolls, stitches, needles, scalpels and other medical tools, medicine and multiple cooler boxes with blood bags if needed. Clarke had inspected most of the blood and had learned after putting the blood through a machine that the Mountain Men had that much of the blood was O-negative. At first, the others hadn't understood why Clarke was so happy to learn that until she explained that O-negative could be given to anyone. She then instructed all the O-negative be taken, along with the rest of the blood.

Coolers filled with mostly O-negative blood that Clarke had marked herself and loads of other blood bags in the coolers. Clarke then had Tim and John help her carry the blood-specifying machine that the Mountain Men had with them out of the mountain, into the tunnels and onto the back of one of the carts.

Soon, all five of the carts and all of the carts connected to the first five carts were filled with food, water tanks, blood coolers, the machine, medicine, medical tools and weapons. That was fifteen trunks of supplies. It if Clarke had estimated it correctly, should last them at least a year if they were lucky. Not that they were ever lucky, but technically it should last them that long. Not that they'd live that long. They went back and grabbed sheets from the beds of the bunks that the Mountain Men had, under Clarke's orders. They were to find their peoples' bodies, wrap them up and bring the bodies with them, burn them. Miller had looked horrified at the thought of burning his dad's body, but Clarke had assured him that that was how Grounders said goodbye to their people. If they wanted to survive here, they had to adapt. And they couldn't leave their people in the mountain. They just couldn't.

Soon Bellamy, Jasper, Octavia, Abby, Kane and several other members of the 100 and the Ark adults were wrapped in sheets and brought to the carts. Lincoln put Octavia's wrapped, bloody corpse on the nearest cart. Clarke and Pascal carried over the wrapped up Abby. Nathan Miller, with a mortified, broken face, carried his dad to the cart, putting the dead man's body next to Octavia's body and Abby's body. The other guards brought over Kane and some of the others. A haunted looking Monty, Coleen, Tim and Derek brought over a covered Bellamy and Jasper.

The remaining covered bodies that wouldn't fit on the cart would be carried by some of the older 100 and the guards.

Monty looked at Clarke from where he stood by the door, his body covered in leather bandoliers, each slot of the bandoliers studded with bullets, his face emotionless as he stared down at the covered, dead young man hanging over the edge of the cart who had been his friend since he was a small child. "Clarke?" The boy called out, making the blonde look at him curiously, "What about the rest of the people we were able to keep at bay? I locked them up."

Clarke thought about that. What _did_ they do with the remaining living Mountain Men that they had captive? Wells shook his head vehemently. "What do you mean what do we do? We're not leaving them here." Clarke turned on her old friend. "And what do we do with them then? We're going to blow up the mountain. That will kill them. If we leave them here, the Trikru will take the mountain and likely torture them to death. Or they'll be thrown out of the mountain and burn to death like all the others. It would be kinder to give them a quick death." Clarke turned to Monty, who she knew from the enraged and bloodthirsty look in his eyes, demanded justice for Bellamy, Nathan, Jasper and Octavia.

Clarke sighed. She had to pacify him in some way. What was it the Trikru said? "Blood must have blood?" They seemed to be okay with murdering people left and right and didn't expect any punishment, so why should they be any different?

"Monty," Clarke said. "Do whatever you want with the remaining Mountain Men. Stick to only killing. Not that I think you'd do this, Monty, but any sexual violence and I'll leave you in here when the mountain blows up."

Monty looked startled by the threat before he glared. "Like I'd do that. I'll make them pay. But nothing like that. Thanks, Clarke." He turned to the door, about to step through, cradling his M27 close, "I'll be right back." He walked through. John Mbege, Coleen and Tim walked over with their own weapons, looking at Clarke for permission. Clarke nodded, resigned. They had to get their anger out somehow. If they didn't, it would be likely that they would explode somewhere along the line. "Do what you need to." She instructed. "But same thing with you like with Monty. No sexual violence or you stay here and die."

Tim, Coleen and Mbege both barked "yes, Clarke" to her and walked past her out the door. She felt Wells's shocked eyes on her and she turned to him, face impassive. "We have to be monsters to survive this world, Wells. To survive the people that will be after us after we get rid of the mountain. We can't let the other Mountain Men come after us for revenge and they'll die anyway. This is as close to a quick death as they'll all get."

Clarke knew at that moment that Monty, Tim, Coleen and Mbege had done what they wanted to do when thousands of blasts of bullets went through the air, and so did dozens of screams. Clarke wished she could cringe when she saw Wells, her sweet, pacifist Wells cover his ears, whimpering.

 _(Cursing their non-lives_

 _Living a curse is their lot_

 _Life without senses_

 _Seeking escape from this plot)_

Clarke looked to Lincoln, wanting to see if he was disgusted by her decision. She was startled to see that he had a passive expression on his face. When he met her gaze, he shrugged. "Klark," He said, "There are no more children left alive and all those that didn't agree with Cage and Dante's decisions are dead. Everyone else was with the decision and would have taken your bone marrow until you were all dead. They terrorized my people for decades. I have no love for them. These people are not innocent. Them being alive would just endanger you. Endanger us."

Clarke nodded, hating that he was right. Even if Lincoln was probably one of the most moralistic people she had met, he was still a warrior and he needed to think like one. She hated what they had been forced to become. What gentle Monty had become. What he was doing now to take revenge. But she supposed they all had her choice to trust the Commander and Anya for that. This was their fault and her own. Once they were out, she would ask them who they wished to put into power. She turned to Raven who had a resigned look on her face. "Rae, how much more time on that detonator?"

Raven looked up from where she was sitting on the hood of one of the carts. She looked down at the panel with the digital numbers on it. "We've got another hour on here." Clarke nodded. "Is there a way of making the missiles go off more quickly? If Monty, Coleen, Tim and John are…..finished and it won't take that long to get out of here, we'd want to blow the mountain up faster." Raven lifted her eyebrows but smirked. Raven chuckled, "You kidding me, princess? I could make this thing sing if I wanted to. Making the mountain go boom sooner won't be a problem at all."

Clarke nodded when she heard footsteps approaching from the hall inside the mountain. "That's good to hear." Soon Monty, Coleen, John and Tim emerged from the mountain, several of the bullets put in their bandoliers were now missing. Clarke was going to assume that all of those bullets were now buried in the bodies of Monty, John and Tim's newest victims. Whatever guilt she felt, was quickly chased away as she reminded herself that it was kill or be killed now. They had no other choice. Clarke looked at everyone, calling out firmly, "Make sure we have everyone with us. We're leaving as soon as we do a roll call. Then we're leaving. And as soon as we're out of the mountain, when we're a few miles away, Rae, Monty, I need you guys to set the missiles off."

 _(Down falls the light as they rise from the sea_

 _In comes the night, give your soul, pay your fee_

 _Living a curse, they were born by their sins_

 _Soon life and death will become evil twins)_

Mechanically and with grimness in their eyes, they all responded as positively as they could. The shadows of demons in their angry eyes as the walked around, making sure they had everyone with them only told Clarke that they had a long way to go before any of them would ever be okay again. They had to do one thing at a time. Get rid of the mountain, and get everyone to safety. As everyone was checking to see if they had everyone, and Tim, Miller, Dax, Diggs and Monroe got into the driver's seats of the carts, Pascal, Harper, Fox and Coleen helped Wells onto one cart, and Raven onto another. Clarke went to Lincoln, eyes meeting his. "Lincoln, what do we do now?"

Lincoln stared at Clarke, hatred that was new to him, hatred of his Heda that had abandoned his homon for dead and in doing so, she had been shot, murdered. As had these people that he had been trying to help. People that he had come to see as his own people. His eyes hardened with anger that startled Clarke. "I will go where you go, Klark. You are my Heda now."

Clarke felt like she could faint from what she just heard. She was his Heda? She was? That was insane. She had gotten Octavia killed. She left Octavia to die in Ton DC. "Lincoln-" The Grounder puffed out his chest, looking proud. "Klark," Lincoln interrupted. "I am your warrior. I will kill any Trikru at your command. You are my people." His intense eyes went to the rest of the astounded survivors. "You are all my people. I don't care what happens. You are all my people. The Commander has disgraced all of us. She has disgraced all of the Trikru. She no longer is worthy to be the Commander."

Clarke stared at Lincoln. Lincoln was too honest to lie. Even if he was speaking out of anger and grief, the conviction in his words and eyes was undeniable. Lincoln, before Clarke could stop him, had kneeled down before her, bowing his head. Clarke gasped. Lincoln answered calmly, "Klark kom Skaikru, I swear my loyalty to you. Now and always, Skai Heda. In this life and in the next." Clarke felt like she couldn't breathe. A Trikru warrior, who had been Trikru all his life had just sworn fealty to her and chose her as his Heda over the one he had served almost his whole life. She felt strange. She wasn't sure she could think solid thoughts for a while.

Until she heard John Mbege snort, "Right, right, very touching and all, but we kind of need to figure out what we're gonna do after this. Where do we go now? What happens the next time those Tree dung bitches try to kill us?" Clarke sighed at John's blunt words and noticed Lincoln look up, his feelings about what John just said, unreadable.

Clarke shook her head. "I don't know, but I know this. It will probably be better if I step down. I'll leave other people in charge."

Hundreds of disbelieving voices yelling "What?" almost made Clarke jump.

Clarke groaned from the high note of the many shocked voices as she felt Lincoln's stare aimed up at her. "I got us into this." Clarke said. "Maybe you would have gotten caught by the Mountain Men anyway, but the reason why you almost died was because I trusted the Commander and Anya. Maybe if I had done something different then this wouldn't have happened. Tim, Harper, Raven, Wells, you four should take over. You're the most responsible. After we're out of here, the four of you can take the lead. I'm not going to endanger you guys any more." She turned her head away from her people, eyes staring angrily at the stones lining the walls.

"No, Clarke." Harper's voice was strong and hard, making the other blonde turn to the smaller, startled. Harper glared at Clarke. "You can't blame yourself for what the Mountain Men did. You're our leader. Since Bell and O aren't…..," Harper looked like she was fighting off tears for a moment as she choked out, "I'll help you lead. All of us will. But you're not stepping down, Clarke. We need you." Clarke, eyes wide, looked at the others for their verdicts.

Lincoln stood up, convinced eyes looking at Clarke with loyalty.

Raven was giving Clarke a similar look. She shook her head, "Princess, you're not giving up that easily. You're the best choice. You're our leader, deal with it." Tim, Monroe, Pascal, Myles, Nathan Miller and the others all voiced their agreement to this, looking at Clarke with a combination of total respect and dark resolve. Clarke straightened her body out a bit, feeling kind of light-headed at hearing and seeing all this, not sure if she should be touched or disturbed by the fact that she was still chosen as their leader. Maybe both. "Alright," She said, accepting their choice, for now anyway, "Thank you. Thank you for trusting me, after all of this." She got a few reassuring smiles from Myles, Monroe, Monty, Coleen, Dax, Diggs and even Wells. A few others nodded. They were all damaged, but not broken yet. Not fully at least.

They'd survive still.

It was then planned that they'd try to get to the Floukru, since Lincoln had told Clarke and the 100 before that Luna's tribe would take them in. Even now, Luna would take them in. And so it was decided. They were headed for the Floukru territory. And if they didn't get there? If the Trikru made it impossible? Then they would kill as many Trikru as they could before they were eventually brutally killed.

Clarke had found bitter laughter in her voice when she heard that. It looked like the Commander and Anya got what they wanted. They were just as bad as the Trikru were now. And they were going to do exactly what they needed to do to get rid of any Trikru or any Grounder that got in their way. They had the weapons for it. Every inch of the forest would be covered in red by the time they were done.

"Do we have everyone?" Clarke called out, looking at these people, her people, her family. There was a series of people looking around and as soon as they were sure they had everyone, they turned back to Clarke and responded verbally or nodded. Clarke forced a smile. She turned to Lincoln. "Lead on, Lincoln."

The dark-skinned Grounder nodded and he looked up one last time, agonized and Clarke shuddered, knowing that he was looking at Octavia's wrapped up body. He turned around then and began walking swiftly down the tunnel, with Clarke at his back. Gradually all of the others followed, the sounds of the vehicles carrying all the supplies and their peoples' bodies wrapped up following.

An hour later, Mount Weather was blown to bits, and all of the living Sky People and Lincoln went missing, with their supplies.

 _(Down falls the light as they rise from the sea_

 _In comes the night, give your soul, pay your fee_

 _Living a curse, they were born by their sins_

 _Soon life and death will become evil twins!)_

 **Note**

 **The 100 still alive: Clarke, Myles, Monty, Dax, Derek, Monroe, Wells, Fox, Harper, Tim, Diggs, Coleen, and so on.**

 **This story is loosely based on Xandria's song "Cursed."**


	2. Escape from Trikru Territory

So this story is going to be longer than I thought it would be. It's still going to be way darker than you want it to be. Again, if you're expecting fluffy Sky People, you have another thing coming.

I'm sorry to say, everyone, Clarke and the other 100 are about to enter super villain territory. So to explain Clarke, Lexa and Anya's relationship, the three of them were romantically together before Lexa and Anya left. Both Lexa and Anya are in love with Clarke. And they betrayed her.

Warnings for violence in this chapter

 **Forgiveness does not exist:**

 **Chapter Two: Escape from Trikru Territory**

Having traveled for miles from the now crumpled mountain back to Camp Jaha, they had gotten as much as they could. They had needed to get the rest of the carts.

The very first time they had shown up back at camp, the civilians and the guards that had remained at the camp had been shocked and horrified by the small number that had made it out of the mountain. The remaining guards had all started snarling and demanding answers when Clarke had shot off a few bullets in the air to catch their attention and had loudly ordered all of them to calm down. She had then told them that they were on their own now. The Commander and her general had betrayed them. And they all had to look out for themselves now. And that no Grounder, except Lincoln was to be trusted ever again. The guards and civilians had looked at Lincoln with suspicion at first but soon were left with many questions, since they had seen the mountain get destroyed, and had heard the explosions. When the remaining 100 and the remaining guards from the mountain had explained everything, terror had been the only thing left and they had looked desperately at Clarke for guidance.

The next few days was filled with realizations about how fucked they were and getting more supplies and more carts. Each and every one of the last 100 and the remaining guards were covered in fat, thick, black, leather bandoliers. Any unarmed guard or civilian were equipped with guns, rifles and bandoliers of their own. Clarke, Raven and the other 100 kept the grenades for themselves. They would not feel safe taking their weapons off them. Not for a long time. Some of them, like Coleen, Derek, John Mbege and Monty had less bullets in the said bandoliers than others did, but anyone who saw them bearing the many bandoliers they had on with think fast before trying to start a fight. At least if they were of the Ark. As Derek had snorted once they had arrived back at Camp Jaha, the Grounders were idiots that would jump into a fire just to prove how tough they were and would be shocked that they got burnt alive.

The others had actually laughed at that one. Even Lincoln had. Because it was just too true.

The Grounders would do just that. They'd do that and order all their armies and all their families to jump into a fire if it meant that they'd be made out to be heroes. Because the Grounders cared more about appearing strong than saving other people. On their way back from the mountain, Dax had even made a joke, grinning with a morbid look, asking what the difference was between a Grounder and a Kamikaze pilot. According to Dax, there was no difference. They were all fanatics that only cared about glory instead of people. He had then apologized to Monty for the Japanese joke, Monty, who in an emotionless fashion, had just shrugged and told Dax that he was of Korean descent, not Japanese and that it wasn't his concern if it was offensive or not.

It had been then that most of the realized the changes on all of their parts they would have to deal with. They had all died in some way in that mountain. Those that had been cut open and drilled into, like Raven, Harper, Wells, Coleen and others; they were mentally primed to panic and scream and shake or reach for their weapons at even the slightest abnormal noise or when if something smelled off. One night they had been sleeping at camp before getting everything packed up and the scent of smoke from the fire Dax and Diggs built for the several freshly caught and freshly killed deer that Lincoln, Derek, Tyler, Zach, Leslie, Tim, Monroe and Ashley had hunted, Raven had woken up screaming, thrashing. Clarke had kneeled down in front of her and told her to breathe with her. Monty had gotten the hyperventilating woman some rations to eat so she might feel better. Mainly because he was desperate and had no idea what to do and just didn't want Raven to become as terrified as Jasper had been in the last months of his life.

 _(Keep yourself from falling into cursed deep waters)_

Those that hadn't been drilled into, but nonetheless had been irreversibly scarred by what had happened, like Monty, Pascal, Monroe and Clarke? They had unspeakable nightmares. Went into fugue states where they were subjected to the replaying their trauma over and over again until they eventually broke out of it. Whenever they got like that, the others would guard them and make sure they were okay or would get them off to bed.

Clarke couldn't prevent the grateful, almost tearfully grateful warmth she felt whenever they did this. Even if they were fucked, at least they all had each other. At least they knew that they'd each die for each other by the end of the day. She'd die to protect them. She knew that for sure. She took a note that while she was grateful to them for their reassurance of her authority, if anything happened to her, Tim, Wells, Harper, Lincoln and Raven were to still take over.

If anything, Bellamy, Octavia, her mother, Miller's dad and Kane's deaths was just proof to her that they had to be ready. They had lost so many people. They had to be prepared for anything.

She had to protect what was left of them. There were so few of them left now. The last ones from Camp Jaha had followed all of the Commander's warriors to the mountain, thinking that they'd give aid, but had been proven wrong like Clarke had been. They were here now. And they had to regroup with the rest. They looked to her as the leader, unaccepting that she had decided to step down? Fine, she'd be as good a leader as she could be. And even if Octavia had said that it wasn't good enough, she sure as hell would try to be. If it kept her people alive or as many of them alive as she could, then she'd take it by this point.

On the final day, they had everything they needed. They looked back at Camp Jaha, as if to say goodbye to the camp and goodbye to the piles where the ashes of their burnt friends were and went off on their carts, led once more by Lincoln. Dawn finally came when they exited the steel gates. Taking all of the shocker sticks, with the electrical bolts and levers that would electrocute the fence in the back of a cart, they left in a beeline. The Trikru who were likely watching, probably saw a bunch of giant, metal caterpillars, loaded with unrecognizable food and metal items trucking out of the camp and off to whom amongst them knew where.

But they were leaving now. It would be the last time as far as any of them knew or planned to ever be at Camp Jaha.

Clarke had called out the order to everyone, all of the civilians and guards and the remaining 100 hearing. They were to permanently leave Camp Jaha and seek refuge with Luna and her Tribe. And whenever they had the chance? They were to end any Grounders they could find.

Soon, they were all leaving the camp.

The group drove off into the woods, the sun beginning to rise slowly in the sky, light flooding above them, starting to leak through the gnarled tree branches.

At the head of the team, perched on one of the passenger's seat of the middle cart, was Clarke, a hardened, cold look on her face, eyes exhausted and empty as she watched Lincoln lead them to wherever Luna's tribe, the Floukru were. She didn't even have time to grieve for her mother, Octavia and Bellamy and Jasper and Nathan and the others. They had to look out for themselves now. If anyone, Trikru or otherwise got in the way, they wouldn't hesitate to open fire and fill everyone with bullets. That was just who they had to be now, thanks to Lexa and Anya.

 _(Keep yourself from falling into cursed deep waters)_

 **Oooooooo**

 **Polis**

Three warriors stepped up, spears in hand, swords strapped to their sides, fierce looks on their bearded faces, marked with tattoos to mark their achievements. Leksa stared at them coolly from where she was seated, Onya standing next to her, tense. "What news?" The Commander asked, mind only on Klark. Was she safe? Were her people safe? Had they gotten out? There had been so much talk about people suddenly spilling out of the mountain, all covered in bloody sores. This meant they were Mountain Men. And they were dying. But why? Who did it? How? And had any of the Skaikru survived?

After Leksa had left, her heart ripping in two and she was sure that she could hear Onya's heart ripping in two as well, they had tried sending people back to retrieve Klark. They did what they had to like they always had to do. It killed Leksa to do it, to leave Klark like that. But it was necessary. They had to protect their people. But they had sent a few warriors back to bring Klark back to Polis with them. The order had been simple. Bring Klark back alive and unharmed and do not even bruise her, even if she struggles the whole time. And here her warriors were. Without Klark. Leksa wasn't sure how to react to this. Her chest felt like it was going to collapse at any moment, her heart aching.

"Heda," The three warriors bowed and the middle one began to tell her what he had witnessed, "Our scouts came to the mountain, and it was…," The thinnest of the three who had spoken had gone pale and Leksa feared the next words that would leave her warrior's mouth. "Speak now, Dahadis." The bearded warrior nodded. "Forgive me, Heda. The mountain, it's gone. It's been destroyed. The three of us went to get Klark kom Skaikru, but when we got there, she had gone into the mountain." Leksa's throat tightened and her nails bit into the wood of her chair's right arm. No. That couldn't be. Could Klark really have been that foolish?

And gone? What did he mean that the mountain was gone?

"Explain." Leksa demanded, trying to distract herself from her own terrified thoughts and the sight of her mentor, Onya becoming straighter and stiffer than a steel made spear. Onya was about to collapse too. At least Leksa knew her reaction wasn't the strangest. "What do you mean when you say that the mountain was destroyed?"

Dahadis looked uneasy about delivering this next piece of news, as did his companions. "I am sorry, Heda. I don't know how it happened. We looked for Klark kom Skaikru everywhere around the mountain, but we knew she had gone inside. We left because all of the doors were locked. But then, after a few hours? The mountain collapsed. It was like it exploded from the inside out."

Leksa stared at the man, mind twirling in a mad twister of questions. What?

"How are you expecting us to believe this happened?" Indra demanded, sounding as exasperated and confused. Leksa couldn't help but agree with Indra's voice. It was exactly as she felt. Dahadis shook his head, as if desperate for an explanation himself. "I don't know. It just happened. One moment it was there. Then the ground exploded around it and it just collapsed into pieces." The man looked stark terrified as he explained. "The food, the water, anything we could find that might have been of use to us is gone. It was destroyed in the explosion. What wasn't destroyed was crushed under the rest of the mountain. We…we found bodies. Thousands and thousands of bodies. They were Mountain Men. They all had marks on them that were identical to the ones that the other people that fled the mountain had. I don't know how they got like that before the bombs went off. But somehow they died and _then_ hours later, the mountain exploded."

Leksa's eyes narrowed, shock assaulting her. The Mountain Men were dead. All dead. And the mountain was completely destroyed. They were gone. How? How did they die before the bombs went off? And who had set the bombs off? Her heartbeat sped up. Could Klark and her people be alive?

"There's something else," Bolo, the heftier man with a black beard spoke, looking at his Heda apologetically, "When we went further out of the mountain, around the destroyed grounds, we found other bodies. These didn't die the same as the Mountain Men. They had puncture wounds all over their bodies. And several of them had their bones taken out of their bodies. One of them…even with their body mostly destroyed, they were all burned, you see, we found punctures in their bones. They may have been Sky People."

 _(Have you been to the water_

 _Have you gone with the tide_

 _Have you heard of strange creatures_

 _Beware of the Moonlight)_

Leksa almost collapsed right there in her throne, hearing that, her heart squeezing painfully. Sky Peoples' bodies. Found outside of the mountain. Burnt bodies. And who could have burnt those bodies, if not Klark and the other survivors? "Any signs of Klark or any of the other delinquents she came down with?" She asked, fearing the answer. Dahadis shook his head. "We didn't see them. They might be under all the rubble. But if they are, we haven't found them." Dahadis and the other two guards lowered their heads, as if aware that they had just given a piece of information that would likely infuriate their Commander. Leksa reeled in her throne's seat. Her teeth ground together. No. Klark couldn't be dead. She couldn't be. She heard Onya hiss quietly, but neither of them said anything for a long time.

Leksa lifted her head high, eyes narrowed, keeping back the cold wrath starting to coil up and ready to strike at anything even close to causing displeasure. "Go," She ordered, voice giving away none of the wrath that was growing worse with each passing moment. "Scout all the trails around the mountain. Search the ruins of the mountain. Find whatever you can. Any evidence of the Skaikru and Klark. Find it. Look in the forests near the mountain, search their camp. Go now. Take your best trackers with you."

"Sha, Heda!" The guards affirmed, getting up and walking out of the room, moving as if they couldn't leave fast enough. Leksa snapped her gaze to Titus who began walking over as soon as the guards were gone. "Heda," The bald, tattooed mentor began, "I say we gain control of the area. Even if the mountain is somehow gone, we must claim what's left of the territory. You have heard what the Az kwin has said about you. That you are weak? It is time you prove her subordinate to you."

Leksa tried not to grind her teeth harder. In her and Onya's oncoming grief, Titus lacked any ability to be able to understand when to hold his tongue.

"You will not to tell Heda what she is to do," Onya spat, no longer able to keep her rage in place, her mind most likely occupied only with hot anger and terror over what happened to Klark, "She will make her own decisions and can speak for herself. Know your place, Titus." The Flame Keeper stood straighter, obviously enraged at Onya's remark, but held his tongue.

"Em pleni!" Leksa spat, standing up on the top step of her throne. "I will have none of this. When the scouts go and look through the ruins of the mountain," the words sounded so strange saying them. How could the mountain be gone? Just gone? "Then look though Camp Jaha. See what they can find. If the Skaikru aren't there, then I'll send out a larger party. If they're found, I will have spies stay on them until we find what they are planning. In the meantime, Titus, hold your tongue. I have made my decision. I will say no more on this." Leksa gave her a dangerous look to her mentor and the stone-faced man bowed at his waist and went back to standing at her side as Onya gave him a dark look.

"Onya," Leksa said looking at the older woman in the eye, "Come with me." Onya nodded and followed after Leksa when the Commander walked down the steps to the floor and towards the door. Onya held back her smirk as she felt Titus's glare on her back. The two of them walked out the door between the ripped, red, silk curtains and walked down the hall. When the two of the reached a small, private room, Onya closed the doors behind her on instinct, knowing this was a private matter that Leksa wished to discuss.

Onya kept her eyes on Leksa's back as the younger turned around slowly. Leksa faced her.

Leksa spoke softly heart still aching as she thought of Klark's face at the mountain. "Onya, I need you to find Klark. I trust the scouts I've sent out as much as I can. But I'd only trust Klark's safety with you. I need you to go out and see if Klark is safe. Bring her back to me. Find her and bring her to Polis. Unharmed." Onya bowed her head, meaning every word that was about to come out of her mouth and knowing that she needed to find Klark. Now. Neither of them could rest till she was safe with them.

They had to find her. Onya bowed to her Heda. "Sha, Heda." The warrior answered, "I will retrieve her. I will bring her back and give all my strength for her not to be harmed." Onya gave Leksa a troubled look, dark eyes brewing with dark thoughts. "I'm sure you know that she will likely struggle the whole time I try to bring her back? She will not come with me willingly." Leksa held back any pain that she might have felt, even though Onya knew that Leksa was as destroyed inside as she was at having to abandon Klark's people at the mountain. "I am not foolish, Onya." Leksa answered. "I know she will be angry when we see her again. She will struggle. But we need her safe. I don't care if she hates us for the rest of her life." _That_ Onya knew and she knew that Leksa knew too, was a lie. "Bring her here to Polis. If you have to tie her up and bring her here against her will, do it. But bring her back to us. Where she is safe."

Onya nodded, answering dutifully again. She could only imagine how well this would go. Bringing Klark to Polis after they had left Klark's people at the mountain? Attacking the pauna with a mere stick would have been easier. Onya left Leksa, getting down to the lowest level of the tower and reaching the ground, going to the stables. Her horse was being readied. She got to her steed, touching his smooth, dark brown fur. The warmth just flooded into her hand. She looked into big, brown eyes of her horse, Arvak. "You're going to help me bring Heda and my beloved back home. Where she belongs."

 _(Down falls the light as they rise from the sea_

 _In comes the night, give your soul, pay your fee_

 _Living a curse, they were born by their sins_

 _Soon life and death will become evil twins)_

 **Oooooooo**

 **Miles from Camp Jaha**

The trains of nonstop vehicles, dragging the metal carts behind them drove along the wild trails of the forest, the many lights attached to the fronts and sides of the cars acting as means of keeping the cars from going along the routes blind. Marching alongside the carts were the forty guards from the camp that hadn't gone near the mountain. Some of the surviving civilians walked along the ground next to the carts. Others were in the carts with the injured 100 and the injured guards. Whenever there were large rocks or stumps of trees that they came along in their journey, they would get out of the way, turning the wheels of their cars. Perched on the seat to the right of one of the middle of the carts, was Clarke, armed with her M27, two fat, leather, black bandoliers of her own over her chest, all of the slots of the bandoliers loaded with bullets. Strapped to her sides were two handguns. Slipped into the belts with the guns were three different knives she had salvaged from the now abandoned camp.

Leaning out of the car next to her was Wells, holding a flashlight, the bright beam dancing all over the forest floor, lighting up the still dark forest that hadn't yet been fully illuminated by the sun. A few more minutes and the lights from the cars and the flashlight wouldn't be needed anymore. But for now, they were in need of additional light, since the sun's light at the moment was limited.

John Mbege was crouching down in the back of one of the last carts gun aimed over the back of the cart, the safety off, aiming the barrel at the forest. Next to him, at each of his sides were members of the 100, Derek and Dax. They were shining their flashlights into the woods. Next to them, more of their people were doing the same as Mbege had done, were kneeling down, aiming their guns, with the safety off, into the forest, others next to them, also holding turned on flashlights and aiming the beams at the forest, allowing the shooters to see if any animals or worse, Grounders were going attack them.

They were armed at the sides as well. More members of the 100, Michael, Ian, Maria, Ada, Beth, Kevin, Will, Fred and Leslie were all armed, leaning out of the sides of the carts, aiming the barrels at the forest, a bunch of them on different sides of the carts. All of them bore fierce looks on their face and Clarke knew that they all bore the same hatred in their hearts for the Grounders as she did now. Perched on the shelf of the corner of the cart was Lincoln, who was looking out through the trees and scouting if there was anyone around, at the same time helping the driver of the car that his cart was connected to, helping Miller navigate his way through the forest.

The emerging sunlight spilling in between the trees were providing more light, making it easier for them all to see. Unfortunately, they all knew that this made it easier as well for any spying Trikru to see them. Lincoln had warned them that scouts were more than likely out watching them. Thankfully they were all heavily armed to the teeth.

And eager to spill Trikru blood.

John Mbege, where he sat in the next to last cart in the line, brought up one of the walkie-talkie radios and spoke into it, "Clarke, I don't see anyone. Of course, that probably means they're just hiding really well. If I see one of them, what do I do?"

From where she sat, Clarke looked over at the carts behind her, all of the other 100 and the Ark guards blocking her view of John, and she turned back to the walkie-talkie radio on the floor of the cart where she had heard John's voice, picking it up and speaking into it, "Don't open fire, John. Whatever you do, don't. You know how they are. If we even move the wrong way, they'll see that as an excuse to attack. And they'll say it's our fault. That's just how they are. There's no reasoning with them. Shoot only if there is anything shot at us first. A spear or an arrow. Or if one of them jumps at us. Only under those circumstances. Don't give them any excuse to attack. If you see them, just keep your gun on them, but don't pull the trigger. That's an order, John."

If John felt any annoyance at her command, he didn't display it in his voice. He answered calmly and almost respectfully, "Yes, Clarke. Got it, boss."

Clarke lowered the walkie-talkie, startled at the respectful title that John had just addressed her with. She had known that after the mountain, after the others' deaths, especially after the leader of the more rougher group of the 100, and her dear friend, Bellamy had died that someone would have to lead them and take care of them and guide them. But she hadn't thought that they'd take to her authority as well as they had. They had followed her now for hours and hours with dutiful respect. John Mbege, Tim, Dax, Monroe, Harper, Miller, Derek, Diggs, Myles. All people that had been part of the violent group that had formed immediately had landed in the drop ship specifically under Bellamy Blake's command. Sure, they had evened out after they all realized they had to work together to survive the Grounders. But she didn't think they'd take to her being the new official leader as well as they were.

Lincoln told her that they weren't being watched, but she had a feeling he wouldn't know at the speed they were going at.

When she had looked at them in the mountain, she had seen unquestionable loyalty. There had been nothing but dutiful, calm brown, green and blue eyes cast upon her, waiting for their orders. If they were to run and she said run, they'd run. If she said hide, they'd hide. If she said kill all the Grounders they could, before they were wiped out, they'd do it, if only for revenge. Whatever she commanded, they'd do it. Clarke found instead of relief that they were listening to her, she felt unease. She had led them wrong before. Did they think she wouldn't now?

"Thank you, John," Clarke said before she could help herself, walkie-talkie inches from her mouth, "I trust you. I know that I can rely on you. I know because Bell did." She watched as next to her Myles and Dax looked away sadly, and her own chest filled with sadness at all they had lost. She heard John's voice a second later in response, his voice holding a strong emotion she couldn't identify, "Thanks, boss. That means a lot to hear you say. I know…,"

John's voice sounded strained when he spoke next, "I know we got off on a rough start. I'm sorry for how I acted when we first got down here. We should have listened to you from the beginning." Clarke winced at those words. What was John thinking? She was the reason they were in this mess. _She_ had been the one that had foolishly trusted the Commander and Anya. John's voice continued, "Thank you, Clarke. Thanks for treating me as something besides a punk. I know I've acted like one a lot. But thanks."

Clarke's mouth dropped, not expecting that at all. She felt movement around her and turned to the others, only to see Derek, Coleen, Tim and Pascal smiling at her and nodding. A deep sense of heaviness hit Clarke. Did they really see her like that? Like someone who had seen them as people beyond being criminals? Sure, she had been, but why weren't they acknowledging as well that she was the one that failed them? But knowing she had to get them to safety before telling them that she failed them, she just nodded back, quietly voicing her thanks.

She spoke into the walkie-talkie, "I didn't need to see you as something besides a punk, John. You always were more than that."

Clarke could almost feel the thrill of loyalty on the other side of the radio and all around her. She almost felt like she could cry. How could they be so devoted and attentive to her orders when she had been there in the mountain and the only thing she had been able to offer them in a world of death was more death? She didn't know how she had gotten so lucky. Luck probably wasn't a word that one would think would be applied to their horrific situation. But somehow it fit. Despite all they had been through, they were a unified group and they were willing to kill all who harmed them to survive. They still had that. They'd survive.

Oh no, they'd do more than that. If they got to the Floukru, they'd flourish. She had to get them to the Boat Tribe. They'd be safe there. If not? They'd make sure the Grounders knew that they couldn't mess with them anymore. And who said they couldn't have some fun with a random Grounder village? Especially since Lincoln had mentioned that there were villages coming up with well-trained warriors.

Even if that was all it was, they'd survive.

 _(Bound to go where the wind blows_

 _Bound to serve the unreal_

 _Bound to dwell in deep waters_

 _Greed and fear cast their seal)_

Another two hours passed by as they drove through the forest, silence and unease ruling their every breathing moment. Every last one of them knew that at any moment they could have the shadow of death hang over them in the form of Grounder attacks if they made the wrong move. Or if the Grounders just decided to kill them, just because they could. Which wouldn't surprise any of them anymore.

Lincoln mentioned to Clarke that there was a village nearby hoarding many armed, well-trained warriors. And that it would be wise to sack it. Clarke had stared at Lincoln's wording. But there was no mistaking Lincoln's words or the look on his face. He understood what needed to be done. And so did Clarke. Clarke nodded, a shiver going through her. So they were really willingly about to become mass murderers. She already was one. But all the others were about to take part in this coming massacre. They could do it too. With Lincoln, they could infiltrate the village and slaughter them all. And the part of this that scared Clarke worst of all?

She was looking forward to it. Killing the Grounders, part of the people that had abandoned them? She _wanted_ to slaughter them all.

She knew she should have been horrified at her own thoughts, but she wasn't. Damn her, she wasn't. She relayed Lincoln's idea to the others through the walkie-talkie. What she heard back should have made her disgusted. But it didn't. She heard chuckles on the other lines and whoops of satisfaction.

The line of carts and the marching people on the ground finally reached a small slope overlooking where Lincoln said the village was. They stopped up on the slope, the carts parking and there was the large village. Torches were being lit for the first hours of daybreak. Clarke looked at everyone and nodded. They nodded back. Now. While the warriors were still distracted, in their beds, making breakfast, lighting the torches, training, looking after their crops. Now was the time to kill. Clarke looked forward at the village as she heard the sounds of the guns being loaded and the safety being taken off.

Clarke spoke coldly into the walkie-talkie, "Everyone put on the silencers. We can't let anyone outside of the villagers hear the gunshots." Everyone, including Clarke, did as instructed. They applied the silencers to the gun barrels, locking them onto the guns.

Clarke put down the walkie-talkie and aimed a gun, with the silencer on its barrel. She hunched down, getting behind the gun and aiming it. Through the eyepiece that helped her see into a small house where a man was standing, going to who Clarke assumed was his wife. Rage took Clarke then. It didn't deter her. This sight of a man and his wife. No, if anything, it did the opposite. These people dared to wake up and be happy. Have a wonderful life and look like they didn't have a care in the world, but they had left her and the other Sky People to die in the Mountain. Their lives had meant nothing to these Grounders. So why should she and her people treat these people any different?

Clarke pulled the trigger. As soon as her bullet went flying, though silent, still popped enough for her companions to hear it and saw it go through the window, landing in the woman's neck, killing her, bringing an anguished roar from her husband, and Clarke's companions took this as a hint.

Everyone began firing with their silencers. Reloading and firing every other second. If there were people coming out of their homes, they were shot. If people could be seen despite the few small, pitiful barriers, they were shot. If some of the warriors tried fleeing, they were shot. If some of the warriors realized the shots were coming from the slope and tried to charge, they were shot.

Eventually there was nothing left after a load of the bullets were blasted into the village, nearly every person hitting their intended marks. Unmoving bodies lay all over the ground of the village. Clarke finally lifted herself up out of the cart. She called out, "We need to check if there are any survivors. We can't let them run to the Commander and report this! We're going down and finishing anyone we can find off!"

Everyone called over to her with confirmation and followed her. Lincoln, the injured Raven and Wells and Harper, the guards and the civilians and more than half of the still living 100, including Monty, Dax and Miller on Clarke's orders remained behind to guard the civilians and keep watch. Clarke, flanked by Myles, Diggs, Derek, Tim, Fox, Monroe, Leslie, Ashley, Pascal and Zach.

Clarke called out, "Take anything you want. But leave nothing that can talk behind. Slaughter any survivors. Even if they're children." Clarke couldn't believe how unfeeling her voice sounded, but yet again, no repulsion was stoked inside her. This was what she was now. A monster. A murderer. And so was everyone else that she called a friend and family.

As if to confirm what she was thinking, she heard snickering next to her that told her all she needed to know. Her friends and family? People that she had tried to "civilize" the first months they had gotten down here in that dropship? They were reacting just as hopeful as she was for Grounder blood. Even the blood of Grounder children. Now? Now Clarke felt relief. She was relieved that these people were willing to kill children with her and weren't disgusted by her saying they should kill children, even if they were Grounders.

And she was relieved. That should have been terrifying to her. But the truly terrifying part? She wasn't shaken at all by their acceptance, or their own bloodlust.

 _(Down falls the light as they rise from the sea_

 _In comes the night, give your soul, pay your fee_

 _Living a curse, they were born by their sins_

 _Soon life and death will become evil twins)_

They made their way down to the village, all bearing either guns or knives or both. Diggs pulled out two long knives that he had picked up from camp. Ashley and Leslie were both carrying two different M27s. One was strapped to their backs and one was being carried in their arms. Zach had two handguns, one in each hand. Derek had a rifle he was carrying, with some grenades strapped to him.

Tim smirked. "Let's kill 'em all."

They entered the village, ignoring the many small groans they heard. Any groans of pain and pleading for help they heard was soon silenced by muffled gunshots. Monroe and Fox opened fire on a few still alive. Diggs slit the throats of three still living and groaning Grounders. Clarke knew she shouldn't have felt so satisfied by hearing the blasts of the gunshots, or the slashing noise that came from the wounded that Diggs was attacking, but she was. Terrible and horrible satisfaction ruled her now.

She entered one of the houses, kicking the door open and holding up her handgun, cupping the butt of the gun and swinging her arm, aiming the handgun at any Grounder who might try to lunge at her from the shadows. She saw no one.

That was, until she heard whimpering under the table. Clarke froze, slowly backing away from the table and the wooden chair in front of it. She looked down and began to lower her gun towards the person, aiming at the person's head. Again, she should have been horrified when she felt no hesitation when she saw what was beneath the table. It wasn't any trained warrior. It was a young boy. A boy that had probably just seen his parents get murdered. This young boy probably didn't have any more than eight or seven kill marks on his back. But Clarke knew she couldn't hesitate. Why spare him? So he could grow up and try to take revenge on them?

Those terrified, weeping, dark brown eyes should have stopped Clarke. They didn't. Clarke pulled the trigger, the bullet flying into the young boy's head, blood spitting out of the back of his head and he collapsed, eyes closing forever.

Clarke stepped back again, observing her work. Her first two victims in this village, the woman and her husband were on the floor dead. And now, so was their son, who had probably only been eight or nine. She felt the remorse, but it was like a tickle at the back of her mind. This was what she had to do. Nothing more than that. She looked at the hallway and a thought struck her. Did these two have more than one child?

Clarke walked through the house, going to the hallway, walking down it. She looked through every room, grabbing the things she was certain were necessary. Ropes, sacks of dried fruit, other food. She then got to a few other rooms. Two of them were bedrooms. One room had a big bed. The other had…..two small beds.

One of these beds was empty. The deerskin that hung over the opening that was the window had been pushed back. The hole of the window was big enough for a small child to fit through.

Clarke hissed, bolting through the hallway and getting to the door. She ran out of the house and yelled, "There's a child running around! Kill him or her!" Monroe, Zach, Diggs and Tim were scattering in only moments. They looked all around the area of the house and the forest. Myles cried, picking up his rifle and aiming, "Found her!"

Clarke looked at where Myles was aiming his gun and saw the small girl fleeing through the forest. A part of her almost hoped that Myles didn't make his mark. But he did. She heard the muffled pop of his rifle and saw the small, long-haired girl collapse as the girl screamed, blood flying out of the back of her head. Clarke sighed. She should have mourned for the small girl that had to only be six or five. A girl that in Clarke's heart knew, the boy she had shot under that table in the house had probably helped get out the window to save her.

Just like Bellamy would have done for Octavia in a heartbeat.

But despite knowing that, picturing Octavia running in her head, Octavia being cornered by the guards in the mountain and being shot to death, she had to forget that now. She had to forget that remorseful part of herself. They had to be killers and only killers.

Clarke turned to the both relieved and unfeeling looking other 100. She should have been disgusted with their actions, and even more disgusted that none of them were showing emotions over a child's death. But she wasn't. "Fan out!" She ordered. "Find any other survivors there might be and kill them. Take anything that will be useful!"

After a half hour, the final few survivors had been weeded out, shot and stabbed. Some of them were teenagers and small children. A young boy with two axes had tried to jump them from the roof of a hut. Monroe had turned on the boy and shot him three times and he had fallen lifelessly to the ground, bloody. Another girl, at the age of likely thirteen, had tried to climb into the trees to shoot at them with arrows, but Clarke shot her down quickly. The girl died instantly.

Another young girl that was nine, sprang out with knives and had lunged at the closest enemy of hers, Fox, but Diggs had attacked the girl, his swords plunging into her belly and chest.

The village was barren of the native life that had originally occupied the village. Clarke and the other members of the 100, with their weapons and the goods they had taken from the village, walked up the slope to their carts, dumping everything into the carts.

Clarke looked at Lincoln, wondering how many people were watching them. "Lincoln?" She began, ready for the worst. "How many Trikru are watching us right now?" Lincoln looked surprised, but shook his head. "There are none, Skai Heda." Clarke stared at him, not believing that. "What, Lincoln?" She asked, startled. "What do you mean? Aren't the Trikru watching us by now?"

Lincoln shook his head. "I hear no one here. And I believe that the disgraceful Commander would not have sent scouts out until the mountain was gone. If they have found the mountain in pieces, then they will try to find us in Camp Jaha. And that will take a day at least. We still have almost two days ahead of them. There is a tunnel nearby where we can take the carts so that they don't know where we are."

Clarke listened to this, and was startled by the "disgraceful Commander" title. That was surprising. So Lincoln had said what he meant. She was his Heda now. And Lexa was not.

That disturbingly pleased Clarke. And the tunnels? Where were they?

"These tunnels," Clarke asked, "Where are they?"

Lincoln pointed yard and yards away to a pile of rocks lain over what Clarke presumed was a hole, leading to a tunnel. "There. We have to move the rocks away." Clarke nodded. They could do that.

"Good plan." Clarke admitted. "But we have to burn the bodies. We have to get rid of evidence that we were ever here. If they find people with a bunch of bullet wounds, they'll know instantly who did this."

Diggs asked, looking worried, "Do bullets burn?"

Clarke sighed, realizing what they needed to do. It was terrible, but they had to do it. "I hate saying this," Clarke said, "But we have to get those bullets out." Fox looked like she might vomit and she struggled not to do so.

Monroe grabbed a metal bucket from the carts, emptying its tools into the cart, the clanking making Raven jump. Monroe brought the bucket to Fox, in case the other girl needed to vomit. Wells was staring at Clarke, horrified. Clarke winced and nodded. She looked at the more hardened faces of the others. "Ready?" They called out, "yes!"

The group, Clarke, Tim, Zach and the others went down to the village, bringing knives and going to the deceased to cut out the bullets. Clarke was the first. She kneeled down next to the boy that Monroe had shot three times and began to work. Tim, Dax, Derek, Coleen, Tyler and some others went to work afterwards.

 _(Cursing their non-lives_

 _Living a curse is their lot_

 _Life without senses_

 _Seeking escape from this plot)_

After a grueling hour of removing the bullets from the corpses, dozens of bloodied bullets were gathered into a sack and their hands were covered in blood from the bodies. None of them cared, or most hid that they cared about it. All of these bullets had been fired and filled a large sack. Raven grabbed the top of the sack and dragged it into the cart. She looked at Clarke, grimacing. "So we're going to set them all on fire now? Talk about being excessive." "This is being cautious." Clarke growled, "Not excessive."

"This is being excessive." Raven argued again. Clarke ignored Raven. She looked at the many plastic, red tanks of gas strapped to the carts. "Spread the gasoline all over the village. We're going to set the place on fire!" It was like a frenzy of pack animals. Civilians, guards, members of the 100, even Lincoln, grabbed the handles of gas tanks and ran to the village. Clarke ordered some of those that were armed with loaded guns to stay with the injured and the younger people and she and those armed with gas tanks ran down to the village, pulling off the caps of the tanks. Clarke ordered when they got there to hold onto the tanks and their caps, because they didn't want the Trikru to find those caps or tanks and trace them back to the Sky People. Myles pulled out a lighter and uncapped it.

Clarke yelled to Myles, "Not yet! Wait till we're at the tunnels. We're going to douse this whole place with gasoline and leave a trail to the tunnels. Then you can use the lighter."

Myles nodded. "Got it." He said, capping the lighter again.

Clarke went into the house of the first family she had murdered. She splashed the gasoline out all over the floor and on the bodies. She went through the house doing the same. She avoided stepping into the puddles of the flammable stuff as she got out the door, pouring gasoline over her own tracks to destroy the ground and the tracks.

The rest of the guards, civilians and 100 were doing the same.

To Clarke's shock, Lincoln was splashing the gasoline over several bodies, no emotion on his face as he went to work. He splashed the gasoline over the wooden wall of a hut and all over the wooden platform in front of it. Soon the village and its grounds were covered in gasoline.

Clarke ordered everyone to step back and they did. She made sure every square inch was covered and ordered everyone to get back to the carts and start moving to the tunnel where the rock pile was. Clarke and the others screwed the caps back onto the tanks and put them back in the carts. Clarke grabbed a still full gas tank from the carts, uncapped it and brought it down to the village as Miller and the others started the engines of the carts and began driving as Clarke instructed.

Clarke went to the village and began dumping gasoline in front of the village, trailing it behind her as she walked, following the carts to the hill where the rock pile lay. When they entered the tunnel, after clearing the rocks, she would have Myles set fire to the trail of gasoline and it would lead up to the village and the bodies.

 _(Down falls the light as they rise from the sea_

 _In comes the night, give your soul, pay your fee_

 _Living a curse, they were born by their sins_

 _Soon life and death will become evil twins)_

Clarke left the trail of gasoline along to the beginning of the rock pile and capped the gas tank, putting it back onto the carts. She jumped into the first cart and grabbed one of the shovels. "Start moving rocks away from the tunnel's entrance." She ordered. Everyone got a tool of some kind, save for Wells and Raven who Clarke ordered to stay in the carts. They pulled away the rocks from the tunnel's entrance and after twenty minutes, a hole was revealed that was wide enough for the carts to go through. A few more minutes passed and they cleared up the rocks enough for an opening to be seen. When she estimated the space of the tunnels and decided they could fit through, she yelled for everyone to get on the carts and start up. They all got into the carts, except for Myles who Clarke ordered to use the lighter and get into the last cart when he was done. Myles yelled "alright" back and went over to the trail of gasoline that Clarke had shown him and pulled out the lighter, uncapping it.

He kneeled down and let the flickering flame touch the trail of stinking liquid. As soon as the flame touched the stream of gasoline, the fire started to eat up the gasoline, running up the stream to the fountain of gasoline covering the village. Myles capped the lighter and ran up to the last cart and jumped in as the carts drove inside the tunnel.

Clarke watched as she disappeared into the tunnel, in the head cart, watching the flames begin to rise from the opening of the tunnel that got smaller and smaller the further she got away from it in the cart. When they exited the tunnel, she would have Myles light the fuse of one of the sticks of explosives that they had in their carts. So that they could cut off another way for the Trikru to follow them.

Clarke felt a dark smile cover her face. They were making progress. A bunch of less Trikru in the world.

 _(Down falls the light as they rise from the sea_

 _In comes the night, give your soul, pay your fee_

 _Living a curse, they were born by their sins_

 _Soon life and death will become evil twins!)_

 **So anyone that tries to defend Lexa, have you been paying attention? Everything horrible that ever happened to the 100 has been because of Lexa. Think about it. Who was it that ordered Anya and her 300 people to try to massacre a bunch of children?** **Who was it that left Clarke and her people at the mountain?**

 **So as much as I'd like to talk about how much I hate Lexa, I'll move on.**

 **Members of the 100 still alive that survived the mountain, plus Raven: 37, and Lincoln and Raven makes 39.**

 **The Ark guards still alive from the mountain: 20**

 **Ark guards still alive in Camp Jaha: 40**

 **Ark civilians still alive in Camp Jaha: 80**

 **179 Sky People left, including an adopted Trikru.**

 **And while yes, Clarke and the others are committing war crimes, I think by this point, they really don't care.**


	3. Assault on the Boudalan

**Warnings for violence and death, mass killings**

 **Forgiveness does not exist**

 **Chapter 3: Assault on the Boudalan**

Myles snipped the longer part of the string for the dynamite stick off and lit the stick up, throwing it at the other side of the tunnel when he and all of the remaining Sky People drove out of the tunnel. They were halfway down the hill when the dynamite stick blew up and the caves collapsed. Only a few of them jumped and turned, but besides that, all of them were entirely poised as they drove through the forest. They had been driving through the tunnel and the forest for an hour now.

Lincoln told them to be careful, since the path they were on to get to the next territory was bordering on Azgeda land. It was only then that Clarke really felt any true fear. The Azgeda were of the most warlike people on the ground. They were the Ice Nation and wore scars on their faces instead of tattoos as a way of showing off their prowess in battle. And they were supposedly more ruthless than the Trikru. But Clarke wasn't sure she believed that. The Trikru just had a different way of being ruthless. They were liars. Would stand back and do nothing while the Mountain Men destroyed the villages. So Clarke wasn't sure she believed anything about the Azgeda. But she would trust Lincoln's advice.

They wisely avoided the Azgeda borders when they passed by them.

Seven days went by. During that time, the group feasted on the remains they gathered from the village they destroyed. Deer, pigs, rabbits, hens, the occasional sheep. Between the different animals and the 179 people that were in their party, they were able to fill their bellies. For six days. The seventh day came and they needed to rely on the rations they gathered from Camp Jaha. They knew to preserve the rations from Mount Weather. Those would last them a while, thanks to how the Mountain Men preserved their rations.

But they were fed enough with the camp's rations. Then the eighth day came.

All of them were tired, and they all knew they more or less needed baths. For those seven days, they were sleeping in crevices along hills or in the metal carts. And when they passed the Azgeda territory they huddled together for body warmth. They used the furs they took from the destroyed village to keep them warm when they passed by the Azgeda borders. Now they were in a different territory. One surrounded by rocks and mountainous cliffs.

Lincoln informed Clarke that they were beginning to edge into the Boudalankru territory. The Boudalankru, from what Clarke remembered was the Rock Line Tribe. As if to prove Lincoln's point, the first thing that everyone saw once they were way from a few hills with some trees, was a mass number of rough cliffs with boulders at the bottom of them.

There were sharp rocks and dozens of rocks of different sizes scattered all over.

"Shit," Dax exclaimed, glaring, "This is gonna be harder to get through than a forest."

"No kidding." Mbege growled. Rocks? That was annoying. You couldn't cut a rock or shoot a rock like you could a tree. That was a pain. It was like charging a cliff with a horse instead of a field full of dirt, grass and flowers. How were they supposed to get through here?

Clarke looked to Lincoln. "Lincoln, have you been to many villages in the Rock Line territory?" Lincoln nodded, "A few. On many missions. To bring food and supplies to the Rock Line territory. And I know where many other villages are." Clarke smiled, a thought coming to her mind quickly. She knew that the Rock Line people were, like the Trikru and the Azgeda, of the most warlike of the Grounder tribes. Their tactics were unseemly. Considered needed in some battlefields, but even the Trikru had some misgivings about the Rock Line people. This was good. It was good that they were here. The Rock Line territories were rich with possibilities. If they bombed the Boudalankru, and killed everyone, then they would be seen as the most fearsome people.

But it would also attract a lot of attention.

So what to do then? Bomb from a distance so no one could know who was bombing the Rock Line people? Ally with the Rock Line people in hopes of getting the Rock Line people to turn on the Commander?

No. Clarke knew that they couldn't trust any Grounder. Except for Lincoln. Lincoln was the one exception to the rule. No one else outside of their people could be trusted. They all needed to be killed. Killed everywhere they lived.

"Lincoln," Clarke said, deciding on the first and gruesome plan that she came up with, "You know where the villages are located, right? Can you tell me where the best place would be to plan a bombing on their villages?" Clarke watched Lincoln, to see how he would react to this question. To how he would receive the news that his new "Heda" was planning to bomb villages full of children.

And again, Lincoln shocked her. He nodded, without showing any surprise or hesitation. His eyes closed and he spoke softly, the softness in his voice not taking away the murderous intent of what he said, "Three villages over that cliff," He pointed to the cliff in front of them. "There are villages that have no defenses. They have wooden fences around their borders. But they will not be able to react until the first village that burns to the ground. They are at a steep angle. They won't see anything until there are flames in the air."

Clarke shivered at the intrigue that rose at this. When Lincoln lowered his arm, Clarke asked, knowing she should be disgusted by the excitement in her voice when she spoke next, "Lincoln, do you know where all the villages are?" A plan jumped in her mind and it was a horrible one. But it was brilliant. It was vulgar and disgusting, but Clarke would be damned if it wasn't innovative and useful.

Lincoln could probably see the gleam in Clarke's eyes and he didn't look bothered. If anything, Lincoln started smiling back, a cruel gleam in his eyes as well.

Clarke tried not to laugh painfully. God, what had Lexa done to them by leaving them to the Mountain Men? Leaving Octavia to be shot to death? Leaving Jasper and the others to be filled with lead bullets? Lexa made them into monsters by leaving the mountain. Clarke couldn't stop the small bout of laughter that Lincoln only watched with a curious cock of his head. They were monsters. And they needed to accept that if they were to bring the Commander's people down.

To make the Commander suffer as she made them suffer. This was about revenge. Not just survival. Revenge. Pure and simple.

Clarke and all the others, Clarke was sure that all the others knew it was unlikely they would survive for long with the things they were doing. But she was sure that by this point, like her and Lincoln, they didn't care. They were waging war against an entire world. An entire civilization. It was all or nothing. And all for revenge. It was a murderous game with no winners and all of them knew it. What they were now? They weren't sky people.

They were a firestorm. They were a flood. They were a mudslide. They were an earthquake. They were a rain of sharp, vicious hail. They were all that was going to plague the Grounders for as long as they could stay alive. They lived now to enact vengeance on the Grounders.

Clarke composed herself, a cold smile on her face, looking at Lincoln. Her brother, her friend, her servant. "Lincoln, I need you to tell me where each of the Rock Line villages are. And how far away from each other they are." Lincoln looked at Clarke oddly, and Clarke knew he was trying to figure out what she was planning, but he nodded and went to a patch of dirt, picking up a long, thin stick and started scratching shapes into the dirt.

Clarke kneeled down to face Lincoln and Monty, Mbege, Dax, Harper, Monroe and Fox did the same to see what Lincoln was doing. The shapes that Lincoln was drawing were of squares and circles. There was a large circle drawn around all the smaller circles and the squares. Lincoln spoke calmly when he did this, "Think of this large circle as the area we are in now. Think of this," He scratched in an X, "As the cliff in front of us. And think of the squares and circles as the different villages. The circles are the villages that are further away. The squares are the villages that we can reach with bombs from here. These three squares closest to the X?" The stick touched the squares right behind the X. "Those are the three villages beyond the cliff."

"And the other squares that are further from the X?" Clarke pointed to the five different squares several inches from the squares directly behind the X. Lincoln nodded, "Those are at least an hour away. But not unreachable by bombs. If we want to hit the villages behind the cliff with bombs, then we need to hit this group of villages first. This group of villages are more armed and filled with more well trained warriors. As soon as they see the fire from these villages," Lincoln's stick went to the three squares behind the X, "The other villages," His stick pointed to the next group of squares, "Will be alerted and come to the first three villages' aid."

Clarke considered this and it told her only what she suspected before. They needed to bomb both groups of villages at the same time. It wasn't missed by Clarke that Lincoln said, "if we want to hit the villages." It looked like Lincoln was serious about this. He was one of them. He was a murderer like the rest of them. He really was waging war against his own people. Clarke fought the urge to lean in and hug Lincoln. He was their lifeline right now. Everything he knew was instrumental to their survival and even more importantly, to their revenge.

They didn't have missiles with them. But they had bombs. And those bombs could be set off with the right technology. Raven and Monty were going to be useful for that.

"Then that settles it," Clarke said, "We need to bomb both groups of villages at the same time."

At the confused and startled gasps she received, Clarke answered without looking at anyone except Raven, who was also startled by this, "We have walkie-talkies. We need to contact each other when we're closer to the other villages and give each other the signal. As soon as the other group's bombs have been fired, the group bombing those villages will give us the go. And we'll start bombing these villages." Raven's face showed that she comprehended this when her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. Wells looked away, accepting this, but not liking it one bit.

Clarke turned back to Lincoln's impressed face. "Lincoln, will the other villages be alerted when we attack these villages?" Clarke pointed to the further away squares. The ones further from the X. Lincoln shook his head. "Not if we hit them enough that there won't be anyone strong enough to light the fires. That far away from those five squares?" Lincoln said, "Those are too far from the other villages. The circles. So the villagers from the farther squares will have to light a fire in a signal box. You've seen them, Klark." Clarke thought about it and then remembered that wooden box that Lincoln lit on fire to get Anya and her army away from an area when they were about to attack the 100's camp.

It was a signal to alert the Grounders of when Reapers were in the area.

And as long as they bombed both group of villages at the same time? And wiped out everyone before any of them could light a signal? The other villages? Those circles? They would be destined for destruction too. Then it was settled. Clarke smirked, getting up from where she crouched, putting her foot on the dirt and shuffling her foot to wipe away the shapes in the dirt. Shapes in the dirt could mean anything, but since the Grounders were a tricky and treacherous bunch. If they saw these shapes in the dirt, who knew what they'd think?

Clarke called out when Lincoln, Mbege, Harper, Monty, Dax, Monroe and Fox lifted themselves up, "Here's the plan. We're separated into two groups. One for the group of villages beyond the cliff. And one for the group of villages an hour from here. We have walkie-talkies. I want the group that's going to the villages an hour from here to have walkie-talkies to contact us. Lincoln, you're the one that leads the group to the villages an hour away. Because you'll know where they are and where the best place is to bomb them from. Raven, how are you feeling? I need you to operate the bombs and set them off."

Raven nodded, saluting Clarke. "Got it, Clarke." Raven's dark eyes became vengeful, the hatred that Clarke was sure was in her own eyes gleaming in the mechanic's. "Some crispy Grounders coming up." Clarke should have been disgusted by Raven's words and she knew that Raven knew that too. But neither of them were going to care. These peoples' lives were forfeited as soon as their people abandoned the Sky People to die in the Mountain Men's lair.

Clarke looked at Lincoln, "Lincoln, I can trust you to watch the others when they're going after the other villagers, right? You will bring all of our people back in one piece?" Lincoln brought a clenched fist to his heart, bowing his head. "Sha, Heda." He dropped his fist and walked to the carts and Clarke gave out orders about who was going with who. With one group was Raven, Lincoln, Tim, Coleen, Diggs, Derek, Dax, Monroe, Miller, some of the other remaining 100, and a group of guards and civilians. With the second group, Clarke, Wells, Monty, Harper, Fox, Tyler, John Mbege, Zach, some more of the remaining 100, some guards and some civilians.

Their two groups went their separate ways for now. Clarke's group started driving around the cliff to get a better range on the villages and Lincoln and Raven's group drove to the path where Lincoln was pointing. In an hour, they would reach their destination and Raven would tell Clarke over the walkie-talkie that they were at the villages' location and the bombs were set up. It was time for them to set up their bombs.

"Monty," Clarke ordered, looking at her friend, "I need you to start operating the bombs we have." Monty nodded.

Monty went to the edge of one of the carts and pulled out the tech needed, putting the digital explosives down on the dirt and began to operate.

Clarke ordered for Tyler, Harper and Zach to patrol the area and make sure that no one was watching. They were now far from trees, so there would be less places for Grounders to hide and spy on them, but they still needed to be sure. They now had the perfect plan to eliminate more Grounders. They wouldn't be compromised now.

The next hour went by very slowly. It almost made a few of the 100 fall asleep before John Mbege and Wells yelled at them to stay awake and Clarke smiled at them in appreciation. Monty set up the bombs with the gunpowder at the base. It just needed a flare. A flare they could create. Clarke heard a shrieking noise on her walkie-talkie and she looked down at it, hearing Raven's voice come out from the other end, _"Clarke! We're ready! I've got the bombs all set up and we just need your order and all the bombs will go off."_

Clarke grinned, speaking into the walkie-talkie, chuckling when she heard cheering behind her from her friends, "We're ready here, too. Are the bombs a good distance from you? So when you use the fuel from the gas tanks, they'll be away from you?"

The answer came quickly, _"Yeah! We're at a good distance. You too, Clarke?"_

"We're good here in that department," Clarke said, grinning widely when she saw Monty grab the container of gasoline. "You set off your bombs first. We'll set ours off after yours are set off. You do it first, Rae." Clarke looked to Monty, who was spilling gasoline into a few jars and taped the jars to the ends of the bombs. As soon as the clips of the bombs were pulled out, the flare from the rockets that were attached to the digital tech and the bombs would set the gasoline on fire and in doing would accelerate the rockets to go off, shooting to the villages and the bombs would finally go off like Monty programmed to on time.

Raven, Clarke knew did the same to the other woman's bombs.

Raven's voice came from the walkie-talkie again, _"You got it. Don't have to tell me twice. Monroe! Put the gasoline in the jars."_ Clarke heard a yell of answering.

Clarke heard Raven's hard voice call four minutes later, _"Okay, we're setting the bombs off in 'five. Four. Three. Two. One!' Do it, Lincoln!"_

There was silence on the other end, then Clarke stood up straighter when she heard a 'bang' on the other end of the line. Two more "bangs" followed. Then two more. Clarke looked up at the sky in the distance to see if she could make out the shooting bombs. She saw a few flickers of bright orange, then nothing happened. Then a sharp "boom" hit the air. Then came four more. Clarke, Wells, Harper, Fox, Monty and the others kept watching the sky with interest when a few four minutes later, fire and smoke could be seen in the distance. Clarke grinned. She turned to Monty. "Monty!" She yelled, "Set off the bombs!"

Monty nodded and grabbed the matches from his pocket. He took a match and scraped it across the side of the match packet, the tip turning on fire and Monty went to the fuse of the bomb. Monty lit all the fuses, blew out the match and pulled all the clips of the bombs, running from the bombs just in time when the gasoline that was pooled in the jars set on fire.

The fuses set on fire, the fire running up the wicks and going up to the rockets they stole from the Mountain Men. As if all together, the four rockets went off, on fire, soaring through the air. Clarke gasped as the bombs flew through the air. They watched when the bombs and rockets reached the villages. There were four explosions of fire went throughout the villages, everything catching fire. The ground, the huts, the walkways, the stables.

There were millions of screams and Clarke ordered Monty to set off the next two bombs. Monty did as he was told. Clarke ordered over the walkie-talkie, "Rae! Set off the next round of bombs!"

Monty set off their group of bombs and Clarke heard Raven give the orders for Monroe and Lincoln to set off their bombs. Two more "bangs" went off and more fire and smoke filled the air. The stink of burning flesh and wood began to fill the air too.

Clarke ordered both to her friends with her and over the walkie-talkie, "Finish off any survivors! Now!"

Clarke and none of the others knew how much time went by when the time came Clarke and her warriors were done killing picking off people with sniper rifles and machine guns, all of the barrels of the guns and the barrels on the machine guns covered with silencers. More Grounders collapsed, never getting up again. John Mbege had his M27 resting against his body, firing off six different shots, the bullets all hitting the marks.

Men, women, children. They all fell or were on fire. All of them screaming. Screaming came out of the walkie-talkie too, followed by Monroe's laugh, _"These Grounder fuckers are dead over here, too, Clarke!"_

Clarke smirked, after she squeezed two different shots, killing two on fire young men, trying to escape the pyre. She spoke into the walkie-talkie, "Kill anyone who's left! After you're done, stay there. We will come meet you!" With Monroe's yell in answer, Clarke gave the same order to her friends that they were to go down and kill anyone they could find that was still alive, then they go meet with the others.

 **OOoooooooo**

 **Polis**

Leksa saw Onya come back, eyes almost filled with hope when she saw the taller woman, until she noticed that Onya was arriving alone. There was no one else here except Onya. Leksa felt a growl rise in her throat before she could help it. Where was Klark? Leksa had awaited Onya's arrival with Klark for seven days now. "Onya," Leksa began, voice dark, standing up from her throne. She did not caring that Indra, Titus and the guards were right there, "I told you to bring Klark back-"

Leksa's voice stopped when she saw the lost look on Onya's face and the solemn, confused gleam in Onya's eyes. "Onya?" Leksa asked, waiting for an answer, fear beginning to find its way into Leksa's voice. She knew that Klark couldn't be dead or harmed. If Klark was dead, Onya would not be as calm as she was being. Onya would have been in a rage. Her eyes would have given the anger away in a second.

But something was wrong.

"Heda," Onya went down to her knee, head bowing, "Klark is not at the Mountain. And she's not at the Sky Peoples' camp. No one is at the camp. The camp has been abandoned."

Leksa stared at Onya, questions storming. "Abandoned? Where are the Skaikru, Onya?" Leksa asked, voice hard. Where was Klark?

That was the important question Leksa didn't say, but both she and Onya were thinking it with each passing second. Onya looked up at her Heda. "I don't know, Heda. There was a trail of tracks from some of the Skaikru's machines. Their carts. They led out of the camp and went into the forest."

Onya stopped speaking and looked like there was something she rather not say, looking away.

Leksa almost scowled at the older. "Yes, Onya? What is it?" Onya turned her eyes away, her face covered in dark grief. "Onya," Leksa spoke, a command in her voice, "Speak now."

Onya turned back to her superior. "Commander," Onya said, "A village has been set on fire. I saw the flames from the Skaikru's camp. There was a mass fire above the trees. I ran to the village and when I got there…there was no one left. They're dead. Men. Women. Children. Babies."

The Commander didn't move. Her blood felt cold. An entire village? Destroyed…

"How?" The Commander demanded, a terrible question stirring in her mind. Were the Skaikru responsible for this village's destruction? It couldn't be that, but it was impossible to ignore the timing. The Skaikru were not at their camp. Their camp was abandoned. And a whole village was wiped out, set on fire. This was not something that sounded like a coincidence.

The Commander closed her eyes, feeling the grief lay in her heart. A whole village. Her people. Dead, murdered, butchered. And it might have been because of Klark's people. They needed to know more. The Commander opened her eyes and locked them on Onya. "General, take a group of our warriors with you to the village and see what you can find. Try to find if there are any signs of the Skaikru being there. And bring all the warriors you can to put the fire out."

Even though both of them wanted Klark home with them, safe, they knew that their people came first. They must put out the fire before it spread to other villages. Their peoples' safety and lives came before even the Commander herself.

Onya knew this too and Leksa could see it. But she knew it killed her mentor to agree to. Onya bowed her head. "Sha. Heda." Onya got up and turned around, marching out of the room, and the Commander turned to her throne, contemplating, aware that Indra was fuming in rage.

"Treacherous Sky People!" The dark-skinned woman growled, "They invade our land and destroy our villages! We should have killed them as soon as they came here." The Commander shot a dark look to her warrior and Indra stopped her seething. Leksa did not know why. Maybe it was because Indra knew that saying that they should have killed all the Skaikru as soon as the Skaikru landed, meant killing Klark too, or maybe because Indra didn't wish to speak ill of her Seken, Oktevia.

Leksa gave an order in a firm voice, knowing that she couldn't stay here in Polis anymore. She needed to find Klark. She needed to know if Klark was involved at all with the destroyed village. She needed to know where Klark and her people went.

"Indra," Leksa ordered her warrior, looking at the other woman, "You will come with me. We are taking a band of warriors with us alongside Onya's group. They will search for survivors and see where the tracks lead. You and I? And our army? We will follow the tracks of the Skaikru's carts. We will find them. You will not attack anyone until I give the order."

Indra stood straighter and nodded, spear lifting and hitting the ground in answer. "Sha, Heda."

The Commander gave orders to the immediate order to the guards to watch over the Nightbloods in her absence, and she walked out the door, followed by Indra.

 **OOoooooooooo**

The remaining survivors of the villages below had all been wiped out. By bullets. By slashes across the throats. Being impaled. Bombs. There was no one left. Clarke got the confirmation from Raven that the same was happening to the survivors of the villages where Raven and the others were.

As the towers of orange flames crackled all over the destroyed huts and walkways, Clarke ordered into the walkie-talkie, "Raven, I need you and the others to stay there. We'll come and meet with you and the others!"

She heard Raven's answer, _"Got it! Get your asses over here!"_

A thought struck Clarke when she heard neighing from the stables of the villages. She spoke next into the walkie-talkie, "Raven, are there horses where you are? Live horses?" Clarke heard silence on the other end and Raven answered, _"Yeah, why? What's that got to do with anything?"_ Clarke nodded, looking up at the stables across from them. Their targets hadn't been the horses, just the villagers that kept the horses. The stables were untouched and the horses safe. just terrified. Clarke leaned into the walkie-talkie again, a thought hitting her.

"Raven, I need you to listen," She said, "The stables? Where the horses are. Are they untouched? Are the horses safe?"

There was more silence on the other end, then Raven answered. _"Uh, yeah. The horses are all alive. The bombs didn't go near them. Clarke, why? What's going on?"_ Clarke answered quickly, "We need to get rid of the carts. The tracks are too obvious and traceable. If we have horses, we might be less noticeable." Clarke thought about how many people they had with them. She spoke into the walkie-talkie, "I need you to count how many horses. I'll do the same on my end."

She heard Raven's confirmation and Clarke gave the order to the others to check the stalls for the horses. After some digging out of the bullets that landed in the at one time remaining villagers were taken, some of the 100 came back, telling Clarke how many horses there were. A hundred and seven. Clarke got the confirmation on the walkie-talkie on how many horses were there in the other villages. Two hundred and seventeen.

The number made Clarke grin.

There were 179 of them. There were more than enough horses for them. It was time to dump the carts and take the horses.

Clarke called into the walkie-talkie, "How much food do we have? Do we have enough to feed all 179 of us and at least a hundred and fifty horses? For at least a few days? Check."

There was moving around on the other end of the walkie-talkie and she gave the same order to her group on her end. The guards, remaining 100 and the civilians checked all their rations. She got a satisfying answer on both her end and on the end of the walkie-talkie. There was plenty of rations for all of them and for all the horses they'd want to take along. Grinning, Clarke gave the order for everyone, both on the walkie-talkie and on her side for everyone to get as many horses as they could and that her group would reunite with Raven and the others. They would go meet with Raven and Lincoln's group after they got the horses. But both groups were to do the same thing.

Ditch all of the carts.

She got a series of verbal confirmations. Clarke and the others all got their equipment and rations out of the carts, getting the rations into bags and Clarke had them push the carts towards boulders, having the carts hide. She gave the same order to Raven and the others on the walkie-talkie. The boxy, metal carts, with great effort were all pushed back into rocks and behind boulders, leaving only track marks and deep footprints in the wake of the struggle.

They then went to the stalls and opened them, getting the leather reigns hanging from the stalls and each of them tied the straps over the horse's heads.

The wooden stalls were orange with the glow of the mass fire overtaking the two villages. It allowed Clarke and her friends enough light to observe the horses they were about to abduct. Or rescue, depending how you looked at it. The place was about to all burn down, you know?

Clarke gave two orders. The same one. One into the walkie-talkie and the other to the people around her, pulling horses out. That they could grab any horse they wanted. The others were to be freed and gotten away from the area so they didn't get burnt. But they were to take more horses than there were people in their group. It was likely that the Grounders knew how many of them were left already.

So if they left more tracks than 179 horses could leave, then people might not know they had gone the route they were going to soon go on.

Many horses were released from the stables and immediately the horses neighed, bolted fast as soon as their bridles were off. Clarke ordered the others to get horses ready.

Tyler and John Mbege both chose a large, brown horse. One for each of them. Fox led out a small, lean, but strong black and white horse. Harper and Wells brought out their horses. Harper a roan red-brown horse and Wells a brown horse with a white mane and tail. Zach chose a large, black horse and Monty chose a white horse with a white mane and tail.

Clarke looked into one of the last stalls, satisfied that they had as many horses as they needed and that the others all had their horses chosen and saddled. Then her eyes landed on the horse snorting at her from within its large, wooden stall, the animal's dark, angry eyes glaring at her.

Her mouth dropped and the hand holding the walkie-talkie almost dropped the device.

This one. This horse was hers. It was tall, big-boned. Well-built. Its entire coat was dark brown, just a few shades lighter than black. Its mane and tail were ebony. There was a bright white dollop of fur on the center of its forehead. The gleaming, dark horse nodded its head, ears pricked back as it snorted at her.

Clarke smiled, getting closer into the straw covered floor of the stall, slipping the clip of the walkie-talkie onto her belt and grabbed the leather bridle, holding it up for the horse to see, hoping the horse would be cooperative. She crooned to the horse as she approached it. "Shh. It's okay, sweetheart." She reached into her pocket and grabbed a few of the pieces of rations she had from the mountain.

Pieces of chestnuts were under the horse's mouth in seconds. "Here you go, big guy." She held the food out. The horse snorted and opened its mouth, chewing on the food. Clarke smiled, petting the large animal's nose after all of the food was consumed. She chuckled as it nuzzled itself into her hand. It looked like the horse was warming up to her. Good. She wanted him or her to like her. She wanted this horse. He was dark and beautiful. He would be fitting for her to use as a steed of doom when she brought the fight to Lexa's front door.

While the horse was appeased, Clarke slipped the bridle over the horse's head and slipped the bite into its mouth. The horse snorted a few times when Clarke did this, but didn't struggle. When Clarke got the bridle secured over it, she pulled the horse along by the bridle's strap, and the horse snorted again, stomping its front feet, but followed Clarke in response. It nodded its head many times as they came out into the open, joining the others.

Clarke called out, "Who has the saddles? I have my horse." Miller came over, carrying a saddle, bringing it to the horse who was now chewing on some of Clarke's hair. "Here, here." Miller said, pushing himself up and slapping the saddle over the horse's back, slipping the straps around the horse's large stomach, buckling it.

"Thanks, Miller." Clarke said to him. She changed her hands on the reign and her right hand went to her walkie-talkie. She brought it to her mouth and spoke into it.

"Alright, Rae, does everyone have a horse with them?" She heard the static, then Raven's voice. "Yes, we do! But there is no way I'm getting on one of these things. No way. You hear me, Clarke? No way." Clarke snorted, rolling her eyes. "Yes, you are. The Grounders will find our tracks with the carts way more easily than with horses. Everyone uses horses here. If we want to be hard to track and find, we need to all use horses. Now get rid of all the carts. And here's another order. Our recognizable clothes? Like your jacket, Raven? Get rid of it. Burn it. Anything that would make us identifiable, get rid of it."

She heard startled silence on the other end, but then there was a confirmation. "Alright, Clarke." She heard the aggravated sigh and heard Raven relay that message to everyone around her. Clarke did the same, shouting the order to everyone. There was a series of startled looks but gradually everyone took off their identifiable clothing, throwing the pieces of clothing into the fires. Clarke did the same to her own jacket. She put her walkie-talkie back on her belt and pulled off her black jacket, throwing it into the fire.

"Clarke," Monty pointed out, "You know your hair is a giveaway, right?"

Clarke nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I know." She glanced up at the pale locks on the right side of her forehead in annoyance. She looked around the village, noting that everything was of course, on fire. She looked down at the many carts next to her and the others. Her eyes dropped on a long, leather jacket with a hood laying at the bottom of the second to first cart. She leaned down, letting go of the horse's reigns for a moment.

She grabbed the hood of the leather jacket, pulling it out of the cart and held it up for everyone to see it. "Is this anyone's?" She called, looking at everyone in front of her. She received many shaking heads.

"Wait," Miller spoke, stepping close, looking at the jacket. "I've seen it before. It was…it was my dad's. He brought it with him down here." Clarke nodded, deciding to dismiss the thought of taking it for herself. She offered the coat out to Miller. "Here," She said, hoping Miller would take the coat now. "It's rightfully yours." Miller looked at the coat with pain in his eyes. He shook his head. "No." He said, more sadness in his voice than he could help. "I can't wear it. I'll just remember my dad. And it'll hurt like hell. I can't deal with that." Nathan shook his head, grimacing. "You take it, Clarke. It's yours. You can use the hood to cover your hair."

Clarke looked at Miller carefully. "Are you sure?" He nodded, looking away. "Yeah. Just do it. It's yours." Clarke sighed. "Okay."

Without another word, Clarke pulled the jacket on and let the long, leather length cover her body and she flipped up the hood, having it cover her hair. Clarke ordered everyone to get on the horses. And for the remaining people on the ground to drive the carts to where Raven and the others were and that she would give them the instructions then.

Miller, Monty and some of the others clumsily got up on their horses, straddling the animals' backs and slipping their feet into the stirrups. Clarke dragged herself up the animal's side, foot in the stirrup, and pulled herself up, left leg going over the horse's back. She straddled the animal, foot going into the other stirrup. The dark horse looked back over at her, its ears perked forward, looking at her curiously.

Clarke smiled. "I hope you don't mind, beautiful. You're my horse now. You're going to take me to the other villages." She gathered up the reins in her hands and pulled the horse's face to the path where the tracks of the other carts had been. Clarke half expected the horse to resist, but the dark horse didn't mind being pulled. The horse started moving to the pathway where Raven and the others' carts drove.

Eventually each horse moved along to the pathway where the other tracks were. Some of the guards jumped into the front seat of the carts and started driving.

Clarke had a specific plan in mind as they rode down the path. She checked behind her, looking past the leather hood and her right shoulder. She saw Monty, Miller and the others riding behind her. She smirked, turning back to the path.

They made a good running pace down the path, the carts driving alongside them.

After a couple of hours, they reached Raven and the others. They saw the remains of the fires in the villages before they saw the carts and their friends and family and the horses they stole. Clarke waved at the others and Raven, Lincoln, Monroe and the others waved to them.

Clarke viewed the damage down to the small group of villages. They were demolished. Destroyed. There were burnt bodies all over the ground. Clarke As soon as Clarke and her group reached them, Clarke yelled, knowing they didn't have time to relish in their victory, "We now need to drag the carts into the woods. Get all of the things we need out of the carts. And then set the carts on fire. We're going to take the rations and run off with the horses. Lincoln," Clarke looked at the Grounder, loyal to her and the other Ark people. "Can you take us to another cluster of villages? We're going to cripple Rock Line defenses. Kill as many of them as we can."

Again, Clarke kept expecting an objection. Or just a look of horror to cross Lincoln's face. But it never came. He just nodded. He responded in a cold voice, "Sha, Heda." Clarke almost gasped at how compliant Lincoln was to her commands. So this really was what they were going to be from now on, wasn't it? Mass murderers. Terrorists. Creators of genocide.

Lincoln went past her on his newly claimed horse, a big, strong looking grey horse with dark spots all over its neck and snout and he rode it to a narrow, rock and pebble covered area leading up to some bare, sharp cliffs. "This way, Heda." Lincoln said, pointing to the pass between the cliffs. "This way to the next group of Boudalanakru villages. If we wish to end the Commander's forces, we need to destroy all the villages."

Clarke tried not to feel unsettled at how easy this was becoming. She briefly wondered if there would be any Rock Line Warriors left by the end of the next couple of days. If they could have it their way? There wouldn't be. It occurred to Clarke that they couldn't risk the Boudalankru tribe to survive. They were the majority of the Commander's forces. The Rock Line warriors were considered the strongest tribe under Lexa's reign. The Boudalankru had to be wiped out.

Clarke watched as all of the guards got off the horses and started pushing the carts to the woods. A few of the guards pulled off gasoline tanks and opened them, spraying the contents all over the carts and one of the guards took a match and snapped it against his lifted boot, tossing the lit match into one of the carts, flames beginning to billow up from the bottom.

The guard did the same thing with many of the other carts. All of the carts started catching fire. The carts were metal so they wouldn't burn necessarily. But any sign of identifiable perishables would incinerate. And the burning carts would serve as a distraction for the Grounders until the 179 of them and Lincoln got out of there.

Clarke looked over the rest of her people who had separated from her on her orders. All of them had done as she instructed. They took off their identifiable clothing and had tossed it into the flames. Raven's jacket was gone. Monroe's jacket was gone. Clarke was startled when she saw that Monroe's braids were gone. They had been slashed off.

She stared at Monroe's lack of braided mane. "Monroe," Clarke grumbled, "What happened to your hair?"

Of all things for Clarke to say, when there was so much more she could have asked and could have investigated, Monroe's hair was what caught her attention. Monroe just smiled, shrugging. "I figured I might as well cut off a lot of my hair. Cause why not? They can identify me with those braids. I got rid of them before I needed to cover them."

Clarke chuckled and nodded. So that was why. Everyone else covered themselves with clothes and covered their hair with hoods. Clarke yelled to everyone, "We have succeeded! We have accomplished a great victory today! But We are not finished yet! This is our new mission before we reach the Floukru! We wipe out the Boudalankru before the Commander realizes what we've done! We destroy her defenses! And we do this soon. We leave on the horses so that no one sees the tracks of the carts! With horses, people will suspect Sky people less! Now, let's leave!"

There was an outburst of agreeing cheers and whooping cries. Dozens of the people wholly agreed with this plan and the more Clarke observed, the more she realized everyone was onboard with his plan. It should have been repulsive, it should have been deterring. But it wasn't. It wasn't even remotely deterring.

It was encouraging. It got Clarke's blood flowing and burning. Hungering for the Commander's peoples' blood. To kill them all.

Clarke gripped her new horse's reins, her right hand raised up and she swung it to the cliffs where Lincoln was getting his horse to walk to. "Come! This way! Follow Lincoln! He will take us to the next group of Boudalan villages! And we will _KILL_ them!" The screams and cheers reached the sky with vehemence and bloodlust.

Clarke called for the patched up Raven and the patched up Wells to come and stand by her side. She needed to make sure they were both safe. She lost enough people. She wasn't going to lose Lincoln, Wells and Raven too. Raven awkwardly controlled the horse enough to guide the silver animal to Clarke's side. Wells did the same to the brown horse he was on. Clarke kept both of them in her eyesight, making sure they were safe.

She did the same with Harper, Monroe, Monty and the others who were coming over with their own horses. Together, following Lincoln who was up ahead, the horse walking up the rocky path, Clarke felt Raven at her left side and Wells was at her right. Her people were all at her back. With multiple, hungry flames raising up in the air, consuming everything, setting the trees aflame, the murderous army of 179 began up the path, to the cliffs, going to the next cluster of villages, mass killings on their minds.

 **No way around it. Clarke and the others are just your average terrorists now. Horrible, but there you go. Now the only question will be is if the Commander, Anya and the rest of the Trikru will discover them and have them killed. Also, anyone who thinks that Clarke and the others aren't planning this through fully, you're right. They're not. I don't really think they have a plan. It's just kill as many as they can find and get it over with.**


	4. The Extinction of the Rock Line people

**Warnings for the basic eradication of an entire people in this chapter and the stealing of infants.**

 **Trigger warnings for disturbing descriptions of killing of children and babies. The 100 and the sky people get really dark in this chapter.**

 **Princess Mechanic in this chapter, Wells and Fox as well and bisexual Lincoln.**

 **Forgiveness does not exist**

 **Chapter 4: The Extinction of the Rock Line people:**

 **Two months after the third chapter**

 **Ingranronakru lands**

The sky was beginning, just was beginning to darken. There was still at least another hour of light left before night fell upon the traveling, bloodstained group. Upon her horse, who she had named "Dark Fury," Clarke leered down the rock laden valley they were traveling through. What a desolate area to live in. The only other two terrains where she could think of that would be way, way worse to live in were the Azgeda lands and the Sankru lands. It was hard to decide which amongst the two lands were worse to live in.

Freezing coldness and possible starvation? Or burning and dehydration and also likely starvation? Hard to say.

It had been almost two months since they had decimated those first batches of Boudalankru villages. Now? The whispers were flying everywhere already. Whispers of the deceased tribe's ghosts wandering the lands for eternity. The Boudalankru, the bulk of the Commander's warrior power had been wiped out. Thanks to the crafty and murderous and ruthless decisions of a group of people that the rest of the world didn't even believed existed anymore. According to the rumors that everyone heard in the various villages that Clarke and her group had gotten to Podakru, the territory of the Lake People, that many a villager believed the "Sky People" to be dead. All of them. Even the Commander and the general Anya's homon, Klark kom Skaikru was supposedly gone from this world as well.

And the popular belief amongst many Grounders was that a band of surviving Mountain Men that had taken the Sky peoples' bone marrow were the ones wiping out the villages of the Rock Line people and the Trikru. Stories were raising all over the place that the Mountain Men had survived and were showing the Commander just how grateful they were for the bone marrow they were given.

Much to Clarke and all the other survivors' delight, the Commander was beginning to receive criticism from many warriors and ambassadors of the different tribes. With the Boudalankru wiped out officially now, the dark whispers of "traitor" beginning to surround the Commander were increasing. The tribes were beginning to believe that Lexa had given the Mountain Men bone marrow with the sole intention of being in their good graces and hoping that her Trikru would be spared when the Mountain Men would be able to walk on the ground unaffected by the air that otherwise would have killed them. It was beginning to be strongly believed by many that the Commander hadn't just betrayed the Skaikru and her own homon, but the rest of the tribes as well and were offering the other tribes besides the Trikru tribes up as tributes.

In the eyes of the people of the different tribes, the Commander was loyal to only one group besides the Trikru. The Mountain Men.

At one of their hideouts in the Plains People's lands, when they had heard this news, the news from one passerby they "helped" had made so many of the Sky people laugh that their laughter had reached the sky. The commander had shot herself in the foot. She had made her own worst enemies by making doubt start to grow in her warriors' eyes. No one trusted the Commander now. Because of the equipment that Clarke and the others had left all over the villages of the Boudalankru that they had wiped out, people truly believed that the Mountain Men still lived and that they were wiping out tribes wherever they could find these tribes.

And now, two months later, the Boudalankru, thanks to all of Clarke and the others' efforts, were all dead. Because of Clarke, Lincoln, Wells, Raven, Monty and everyone else. They had started on that day after they left the Azgeda territory and entered the Rock Line territory and destroyed those first two clusters of villages. And for the next two months they had worked their way up through that territory.

And now? Two months later? The Rock Line people didn't even exist anymore thanks to them.

It was a fact that shouldn't have made them so proud, but it did make them proud. It made them overjoyed.

They were monsters and now the blood of all the Rock Line people were on their hands.

The next five villages that Clarke and the others had gone to after the first bunch they had destroyed, they had deliberately scattered around Mountain Men equipment around the grounds of the village and had tested out one of their new weapons from the Mountain. Sleeping gas. The same kind that had knocked them all out at the dropship when the Mountain Men had first captured them and Anya. They had put on all their masks and made sure the horses were off and out of range of the sleeping gas. And as they threw the sleeping gas around the villages, they watched as the villagers by the masses collapsed into unconsciousness.

There had been a series of gasps and cries of "The Mountain Men!" before they all dropped and were asleep. It would be the last time they ever knew of any kind of peace.

For after the thick, white clouds dispersed around the unconscious Grounders, the still masked sky people and Lincoln moved in, all with masks, all carrying weapons. As the Grounders slept, one by one, their throats were cut. Cut right to the bone.

They had invaded the different homes, slitting throats where they could find them. Setting the different villages ablaze. Their methods would vary. From setting the villagers on fire while they were still alive, to slitting their throats, to cutting their chests open and exposing their hearts and stabbing the hearts. To suffocation. To carrying a bunch of them to the water troughs for the horses and dropping them face down into the troughs and letting them drown. In all, five villages had been wiped out. All the horses had been stolen and the villages had been burned down.

Clarke and the others sold the horses to different ranches on the edges of the Podakru territory, using the masks of the Boudalankru people to hide who they were. By using the masks and the furs of the Boudalankru they slaughtered in those five villages, no one recognized them. After they burned down the villages, stealing all the resources and the masks and garbs, using some of the horses for themselves and selling the rest for money, they traveled on, following Lincoln's lead to the next batch of Rock Line villages. There were six of them. Clarke and the others did the same method that they did before. Sleeping gas. Scattering Mountain Men equipment around, slitting the peoples' throats with refined blades, putting bullets in the Grounders' heads and setting the place ablaze.

All six villages perished only a week after the five other ones. Clarke and the others took the horses, sold some of them and brought the rest to a village on the Podakru land, again, using Boudalankru disguises.

The story they used was that they were being attacked by Mountain Men and were giving their horses away to keep them safe while they prepared for battle. And they made sure no one figured it out in time.

It had been two months and the rest of the stupid Grounders just went with the explanations they were given. And now? With six more Boudalankru villages destroyed in the east, seven more of those villages destroyed in the west, five more destroyed in the south and eight more villages destroyed in the north, the Rock Line warriors were extinct. Wiped out. Every last one of the tribe members who had been of the Rock Line bloodline were gone. Killed. Except for the babies of two of the last villages Clarke and the others sacked.

After they had wiped out some of the villages coming close to the Rock Line peoples' borders, aware that they were getting close to destroying the rest of the Rock Line people, they discussed whether or not they should really just make sure that the Rock Line people were totally extinct. But after the next few villages they sacked, burned and destroyed, they all came to the same conclusion. They wouldn't be around forever. And many of them, all of them really, still had their implants in. And they didn't have the tools to remove them. The tools that the Mountain Men possessed weren't efficient enough to remove the implants and could have risked their deaths.

But the fact remained that they would one day die. Be it being killed by another tribe that finally discovered the truth, or somehow by old age if they ever reached that age. So it was a unanimous decision between all of them. For the older Ark people it was to pass on their culture to another generation, because they didn't want it to die out and let the "savages' culture" live on. For Lincoln, it was to snub his treacherous Commander and fill the Grounder babies' heads with Sky people culture. For Clarke and the rest of the surviving 100 and Raven, it was corrupting the Grounder culture and to gain more allies and look more innocent with having small children with them.

Clarke and Raven who had begun a relationship even considered possibly taking a couple of those babies as their own.

And so it was after the last, the very last few Boudalan villages were wiped out that the only survivors were the babies. They wiped out the parents, and stole the babies from their wooden cribs. It should have been despicable in their own eyes, but for them, it had become a pleasure to do. To corrupt Grounder culture in any way there was possible. They would slaughter the adults and teenagers and children and fill the babies' heads with their own culture and their own hatred of the tribes.

And thanks to pillaging all the villages, they had plenty of food and taking some of the cows had gotten them milk for the babies.

So they had a whole miniature, traveling village between the 179 Sky people, Lincoln, their horses, the extra horses, the cows and the fifty babies they had stolen from the now burned to ashes villages here and there. The rest of the babies they had shot in the heads and set on fire in their cribs. Every action they had taken since the mountain had been monstrous and inhuman. They had killed children and babies in each village they sacked. They weren't going to pretend that those bombs that they had let loose the first time hadn't killed all the babies of the villages along with their parents and older brothers and sisters. And they had done the same to all the babies in all the different villages. They had gone into the rooms where the babies slept and lodged bullets in each of their heads.

When Monty had gotten down from one of the babies' rooms, Clarke had met Monty's ashen and dead face, dark eyes haunted by what he did. It was grotesque and inhuman, but they had all committed horrific acts in the name of vengeance, and knew that they couldn't stop. Clarke herself and Lincoln had dispatched several babies. Lincoln had snapped the necks of at least ten babies. Clarke had shot fourteen babies in the heads. Three more babies had been smothered in their sleep by Monroe. Raven had slit seven babies throats with her knives.

Harper had shot fifteen babies in the head. Dax had blown up a bunch of babies' rooms up with grenades. He actually looked like he was enjoying himself when he tossed the unclipped grenades. Derek, Miller, Coleen and Monroe released loads of bullets into different babies' rooms in different nurseries and set the places on fire. They were monsters. And all of the villages they had decimated had been a testament to that. They had butchered many. So many. They were the reasons why all of the Rock Line people, save for fifty babies were wiped out. Because of them, all but fifty babies were what was left of the Boudalankru tribe.

Clarke, one day asked Lincoln how many people he thought they had killed altogether between that village in the Trikru territory, the Mountain Men and all the Boudalan people. Lincoln, grim-faced acknowledged that he didn't know. He knew that there were at least two hundred people in each village they had sacked. 300 to 400 at the most. Doing the math, their killings had likely gone into the thousands. Clarke had released a grim laugh when she realized that Lincoln likely was right.

The nightmares had gotten bad. Raven had to be checked on every few hours during her sleep. Her sleeping got better as of a couple of weeks ago. Monty had night terrors. Lincoln had to hold him captive to keep him from thrashing around and shoved a leather bit of some kind into his mouth to keep him from biting off his tongue. Some of the places they had found Wells and Fox during their night terrors could have been humorous were their living situation not been so horrific. They had found Fox crouching down once in the brush, shaking. Harper and Mbege had to drag her up from the grass and the brush.

Wells had nearly run off a cliff before Miller stopped him and woke him up.

Clarke's own nightmares and moments when she was forced back into the memories of the horror of the destruction of the mountain and all the villages were repulsive and horrifying. The memories of the burnt faces, the broken open skulls from the bullets and the knives, the stiff, unmoving corpses haunted her mind.

But they were what they were. Monsters. And that was all they could be. They were monsters all thanks to the Commander, Anya and the Mountain Men. And the Grounders' disgustingly ridiculously horrifying culture. They had been carved into grotesque versions of themselves, because of the Grounder Commander who swore that she would protect them as she protected her own people with the alliance. An alliance that she had soon betrayed. But it was her own undoing. With her betrayal came the rumors. The assumptions and the whispers. The suspicions that the Commander was serving the Mountain Men and that the Mountain Men were out of the mountain and hunting down other tribes and wiping them out. All thanks to the Commander.

The Mountain Men had wiped out all of the Rock Line villages. That was the story that everyone believed. Every village that Clarke and her people had gone to said the same thing. Or a similar thing. The Mountain Men alive. The Mountain Men were out of the mountain. And they were wiping out villages in the Rock Line area. And all those stories came to the same conclusion. Everyone believed that the Commander had betrayed her people. She had given the Mountain Men the bone marrow of the Skaikru. And so the Commander had aided the Mountain Men. The Commander had betrayed her people by giving the Mountain Men bone marrow. The Commander was losing allies. Her council was beginning to consider leaving the coalition.

Clarke and the other sky people could barely contain their glee when they learned of these developments. How could they not be so completely overtaken by glee and happiness knowing this? The Rock Line people were wiped out, save for the fifty babies in their "care" who would soon be indoctrinated with their own zealous desire for Grounder blood when they were old enough to absorb those kinds of lessons. And more information rewarded their attentive listening in on Podakru stories.

It wasn't just the Podakru who were distrustful of the Commander now. The Azgeda had been distanced from the Commander's orders for a long time now. And the other tribes like the Yujleda, the Sankru people, the Trishana people and the Delfi people all stopped trusting the Commander. And the Podakru swore that there were disgusted whispers from the Plains people as well about the Commander being responsible for all of the Rock Line peoples' deaths and that the commander was a traitor and nothing else.

Seeing a majority of the Podakru also being distrustful of the Commander was exhilarating for all of them to see. When they got back to their own camp, that was burrowed out in large logs and between mossy boulders, Lincoln, Dax, Raven and Miller having gotten a fire ready, Clarke, Diggs and Derek told them the good news and there had been stolen drinks for everyone. And why shouldn't they have reason to celebrate? If the stories they had been given by the Podakru people were true, then six tribes were beginning to distance themselves from the Commander and her rule. And the seventh tribe was wiped out, all but the fifty babies in the sky peoples' possession.

That left five more tribes. The Trikru were unlikely to shy away from the Commander, since Lexa was by blood from that tribe. But it was only a matter of time before the other tribes, or some of the other five tribes started feeling the distrust and believing there was some credence to those rumors. It helped knowing that the Ingranronakru tribe were on the verge of being all but inhospitable to the Commander, should she approach their territories.

Vengeance truly was sweet. It might be a cold one, cold as the ice that now ran through all of their veins. But it was the sweetest vengeance that ever could have existed. In a drunken hiccup, Derek compared it to really good ice cream. Like the cookie dough kind that used to exist before the bombs hit. The others had laughed and Clarke agreed. They kept the babies asleep with the milk of the cows and the goats. They had no real use of the babies until the children grew big enough to hold weapons and to understand how to survive the world of the Grounders.

They learned a few of the babies' names from the clothes they found on the babies, etched in writing what their names were. Lincoln translated it for them, since he knew some of the Rock Line language.

They knew that those names were unacceptable. Not unless they wanted the babies to figure out where they were from. So they gave the babies Trikru and sky people names. Names that wouldn't bring attention at all to their lies. Amongst the babies, there were twenty boys and thirty girls. Some of the babies they named after the sky people that died in the mountain. Others they named for average Trikru people. Lincoln named one baby girl after his mother. Naming her Alina. Baby brothers that had been stolen from one of the last villages had been named Jasper and Monty Jr. Monty had sniffled and almost cried when Clarke told Monty that. Monty never left those babies' alone for too long after that. Raven named one other baby boy Finn.

Two baby girls they named Octavia and Abby. One baby they named Bellamy. Another they named Markus.

Several others they gave proper Trikru and Boudalan names. The plan after they got old enough to form language and understand information was simple. Brainwash them. Tell them that because the Commander gave the Mountain Men bone marrow, the Mountain Men were free and because of that, the babies' parents were all dead. And that the only reason the babies were still alive was because the remaining sky people saved these babies.

More time went by and the sky people were disturbed, but in a twisted way, delighted by their own desires and their own pleasure at defiling the culture of the people that had betrayed them so easily two and a half months ago. That night, they ate and drank to their villainy, the babies they stole sound asleep in their furs deep in the caves they were hiding out in.

It was then Clarke had the beautiful, horrid idea. They prove the Ingranronakru's suspicions when it came to the Commander right. By destroying some of the Plains Peoples' villages. Kill some of them out, and take the babies. When they were mostly dead, dress up as Grounders and spread the rumors that the Commander was not to be trusted.

It was so, so simple. Clarke grinned and announced this plan to her people. Raven had howled with laughter before taking a huge gulp of Monty's moonshine. The rest of the kids grinned and laughed at the violent encouragement. Harper, Fox and the other more timid kids or peaceful kids even enjoyed what they were hearing. Even Wells had come around to enjoy bombing villages and relished in stabbing warriors in their sleep, all for the sake of revenge. His mind, like the rest of their minds was haunted by the mountain. Even the many villages they had destroyed in the Rock Line areas wasn't enough to make him feel better.

But maybe the blood spilling from the Plains People would bring him and the others some satisfaction. Across from Clarke and the rest of the murderers, on the other side of the campfires, were Monty and Derek who were cradling a couple of babies in their arms. Monroe was playing with one Boudalan baby, who had worn a leather coat over him with his name stitched into it. The name was "Voltak." Who had his parents been? None of them knew and none of them cared. But Voltak was going to grow to hate his own people and blame them for the deaths of his family instead of the teenagers raising him to hate. That was the most repulsive and beautiful thing about this.

Clarke smirked at Wells, then over at Lincoln who was watching the babies, making sure the next generation of avenging murderers were safe. Now was time to plan how they would attack the Plains People.

The Plains People, as they learned when first coming here from the Lake people's lands, were similar to the Trikru. Their main trade were in horses, furs and metal. They luckily enough were just as stupid as the Trikru were. They believed the stories they were hearing from the Lake People as much as the Lake People believed the stories about the Commander from the other tribes. The only difference between the lands of the Trikru and the lands of the Ingranronakru were that the Plains People had much more open space, caves and wide terrain without trees. Caves that they used to their advantage. But their cultures were very similar. They were all morons. That was convenient enough for the Sky people.

 **OOOoooooooo**

 **Polis**

The Commander watched Onya pace back and forth nonstop, a furious snarl covering Onya's face. "Where?" Onya demanded, teeth bared. "Where?! Where is she?!"

The extermination of the Boudalankru had not helped in either Leksa or Onya's feelings about where Klark might be. Only that the Mountain Men were out there somewhere, slaughtering their people and it was possible that Klark was either dead, or she was being hunted by the Mountain Men as well. They had to find her.

They had to find Klark before another tribe did or before the Mountain Men did. They'd find her and bring her back to Polis and promise her that they never stopped loving her. Even if she hated them, they had never stopped loving her ever. "Onya," Leksa said, leaving no room for Onya to speak again, speaking so sharply that the older turned to her immediately. "Peace." Leksa sighed. "We've searched everywhere in our territory. We've had scouts search all over the Eastern tribes. Now it's time to search the west. Onya, I'm sending you, Indra, and the best trained warriors from each tribe to go with you in search of Klark across the western lands."

Onya nodded. "With what tribes are left." The older said bitterly, dark eyes flashing with anger at the tribes' betrayal. The Commander nodded, understanding the frustration of the woman who had at one time been her teacher. The Azgeda, the Podakru, the Yujleda, the Delfi, the Sankru, the Trishana, they all proved to be distrustful of their Commander. They were unlikely to help. The Ingranron people as well had turned away from their Commander, despite her threats of death to fall upon them. She was a coward in their eyes. She had faced the Mountain, their peoples' greatest enemy and she had retreated.

She was a traitor to them. A coward. Weak. There were rumors spreading around the villages and the tribes that she had been working with the Mountain Men for years. That she had always intended to betray her people. Only a few tribes trusted the current Commander now.

And the Rock Line people were all dead. All of the tribes in the Boudalan territory were gone. Wiped out. Every village in those territories were burned down, wiped out. The burnt bodies found practically covering the different lands of the Boudalan territory were riddled with holes and stab wounds. The boot marks left around the decimated bodies were imprints almost identical to the ones that the Mountain Men always left, proving to the scouts who looked at the prints that the Mountain Men still lived.

And now the Commander was being blamed for it by the tribes. The tribes believed that she had given the Mountain Men the Sky Peoples' bone marrow deliberately to make the Mountain Men capable of leaving the mountain without suits. The tribes blamed Leksa for the destruction of all the Boudalan villages.

And Leksa wasn't sure they were wrong.

Leksa answered, thinking on the few tribes still loyal, trying to ignore the pain in her heart over failing to protect her people, "The Trikru, the Luwodakru people, the Floukru, take as many of them with you as you can. I don't care what it takes. Bring Klark back to Polis. If she still lives, find her. Bring her back here. Your search in the western lands start now." Onya nodded, bowing to her Commander before she left.

Leksa sighed out, going to the wide gaping opening in the window where she tended to take her frustrations out on those defiant against her. She had been doing it a lot lately. Four Sankru had spoken to her just two days ago with nothing but disrespect in their tones. Calling her weak and a traitor. Saying that she was responsible for the thousands of deaths in the Boudalankru lands.

In her grief, Leksa had acted before she could think. She had decapitated two of the Sankru and threw them out the window. The next two had joined them.

Ingranron warriors and Azgeda warriors had joined the many that were flung from this balcony in Leksa's anger. She felt her chest become heavy, looking over the landscape where the Mountain Men somewhere roamed. Where was Klark? Where was she?

She knew that she had been asking a lot by telling Anya to go to the eastern lands in search of Klark. But they had to find her. The eastern lands where the other tribes lived took at least twenty-five days to get to by horseback. Twenty-two if one didn't stop for rest. But the horses would need to rest at some point. Leksa looked out over the tall hills and mountains. The Podakru lands, the Ingranronakru lands, the Trishanakru lands and the Ouskejonkru lands. It might have been a desperate measure to search there. But Leksa had to find out if there was any chance that Klark was in any of those lands. All of the other tribes' lands had been searched. All for nothing. The messages had reached Leksa a month and a half ago when the deliverer of that message had come to Polis from the Boudalan lands on horseback.

Leksa dreaded those messages more than anything else. The Rock Line people were killed off. One group of villages after another. By the time Leksa had sent out a scout to investigate, the tribe of the Boudalan were no longer in this world. Leksa both yearned and feared the day when Klark would be found. She just hoped that Klark had not been harmed in any of those lands if she still lived.

 **OOOooooooooo**

 **Ingranronakru lands**

It was night when the Sky people decided to enact their plan of attack on the Plains People.

The boots the remaining 100 and Sky people wore were the white ones of the Mountain Men, put on with the purpose of making the Grounders think that the Mountain Men were the ones invading their peoples' lands. And much to the sky peoples' pleasure, it seemed to work from what they heard the next day. But the current day, they were focusing on destroying a few Plains People villages. They stole the boats from the Lake peoples' lands. They had left Miller, Dax, Myles, Lincoln, Raven, Derek, Tim, Coleen, Harper and Fox at the caves with the other Sky people, watching the Boudalan babies they had abducted.

They needed to keep their next generation of Grounder killers safe.

With Clarke were Wells, Tyler, Zach, Monty, Monroe, Mbege, Diggs and some others. They had carried the boats of the Podakru over their heads on their way to the Ingranronakru villages. Inside the boats were many explosives and sticks of dynamite. They reached the lakes around a few Ingranronakru villages. They put the boats into the lakes, cut some of the fuses of the dynamite sticks shorter. The lengths of white ropes of the fuses of the dynamite sticks had been cut and left back at the caves. They couldn't risk any of those severed fuses being found by the Grounders. They walked in orderly, military fashion as they imagined the Mountain Men doing. One behind another, behind another.

Clarke gave the order when they saw the last lights from the villages go out, informing them that everyone in the villages were getting ready for bed. They cut away the last of the fuses, took out lighters and turned them on, setting the fuses on fire. Monty pressed a few buttons on the different bombs, activating them. He and Raven had monkeyed with all the bombs to make them go off sooner instead of later. These bombs would go off in only three minutes. The dynamite sticks blowing up next to them would create a chain reaction of explosions. Clarke kicked off the first boat, pushing it across the lake, making it drift to the village. Monty, Monroe and the others pushed the rest of the ships to the villages.

They walked back up a few feet, readying their weapons, all the nozzles of the guns having silencers on them. The clicking of all the weapons being held and aimed could be heard, but none of them had anything to worry about. Everyone they might have worried about hearing were all the way on the other side of the lakes. Any survivors that tried to flee from the to be destroyed villages would be gunned down. Mowed down with bullets. There were two rocket launchers that they had with them. They would use those wisely and make sure that the shots count, killing as many people as they could with it.

It was time to prove to the Ingranronakru that their suspicions that the Commander's decision at the mountain had doomed them were true.

After a few seconds went by, a mellow boom went through the lake, causing ripples to run along the water. Wings of glowing orange and yellow fire erupted from the destroyed boats and shot through the small and narrow huts, hitting stables and hitting homes. There were multiple more, huge explosions that followed, all hitting different small buildings. Soon, thousands of screams joined the booming and the crackling of the fires. Terrified and pained horse cries joined. Clarke and the others felt more sympathy for the horses than they did for the humans. But they had no use for any more horses, not unless they needed to sell them. And why give the Grounders more horses?

Why give these animals more of an advantage by giving them horses? No, the Grounders deserved to have less horses, just like the deserved to have less lives.

People did in fact flee from the villages, but most of them were set on fire, screaming as they ran, fire shooting out from them like a wavering, orange tower. Clarke turned to the others as they got their weapons ready and hissed, 'No!' at them. At their surprised looks, Clarke answered coolly, "Those on fire are already going to die. Let them die. Don't give them a quick death and don't waste any bullets. If there are any people running out without any flames on them, then shoot them. And only them."

She heard Wells, Monty and the others give their verbal answers. They nodded and readied their weapons, but did not fire as more ablaze people fled from the huts. At last, at least five different people that had not been touched by the fire came running, screaming. That was when Clarke, Wells, Monty, Monroe, Diggs and the others opened fire.

Their bullets flew across the lake, hitting all of the people fleeing instantly. The five that had been running from their huts collapsed to the ground. Diggs and Mbege opened fire on several others that were without flames trying to run. Soon, most people that had tried to run fell down to the ground with bloody holes in their bodies.

There was giggling between the remaining 100 as they opened fire on the villages. They laughed together as they killed off thousands and thousands of people in the villages. The only things that would be heard were the explosions and the screams of the Sky peoples' victims. But they would not hear any banging from the guns, since from there were only silencers on the guns. The only ones rewarded with the almost silent "popping" noises from the guns and the giggling from the shooters were the vengeful Sky people.

Hours had past and soon the only noises that exited the village's huts and grounds were the crackling flames and the remaining, agonized moaning of Clarke and her peoples' victims as those victims burned to death or bled out from their bullet wounds.

Clarke pulled her face away from the cold metal gun, smirking. She put the safety on the rifle and told the others to do the same. They did as ordered. They put the safety on their guns and lowered the weapons. Clarke turned to the others, all of them wearing satisfied smiles on their faces, their masks of murderous pleasure glowing in the firelight. Clarke announced, voice almost purring with content, "That's good for tonight, guys. We did good. We did really good. Now let's head back to the caves before people find us. They'll be busy with the fires in the villages and trying to keep the fires from spreading. But let's not stay here longer than we have to. We should tell the others how much we pulled off tonight."

Diggs and Monty snickered. "Yeah," Monty said, grin like a shark's. He in no way resembled the boy that he had first been when they had come down in the dropship in the Trikru territory once upon a time. "We've had our fun. Now we can tell the others how much we fucked them." Clarke grinned. Everything about this was surreal. Because despite the three heartless months that had passed by, it still felt unreal that they were like this. It felt like they should still be those naïve, innocent children that had come down to Earth months and months ago, thinking that they were the first humans in years to be on the ground.

They had been so foolish and stupid. So weak.

But now? They were like blades. Shattered pieces of glass that would cut a Grounder up the moment they had the chance. They were cruel beasts compared to the stupid little children they had been months ago. What felt like a lifetime ago. They were animals. Murderous predators. And they were okay with that. But it still felt unreal. To compare the people they were now to the people that they were months ago. It felt silly.

They began to walk away from the edge of the lakes. Diggs went up ahead and the others followed. Clarke smirked over at the villages in ruins and walked after them. She swung the rifle and over her shoulder and let it hang from her shoulder against her back. She cradled the machine gun she had fired on the villages in her arms. She faced Wells's back as she left. They walked in single-file as the Mountain Men would, the Mountain Men's boots leaving the intended footprints along the ground.

A few hours later, they reached the caves. The many Sky people greeted them. Clarke and the others had made sure that they didn't leave footprints behind that the Grounders couldn't find or track. They had gone to the river and had walked into its depths. They had trudged through the river to the location. None of the Grounders would find their footprints.

Clarke and the others got to the many, wide almost endless caves as they closed in, taking off their guns and pulling them from their bodies. Clarke, Wells, Monty and the others reached the beginning of the very first cave where Raven, Lincoln and Dax were waiting for them, their faces illuminated by the small built fires in their camp where their dinner was being cooked. Clarke grinned, getting close. She and the others tossed their weapons and magazines into a pile on the floor of the ground and the cave floor. They pulled off their Mountain Men boots and tossed all of them into the cave floor. The footprints wouldn't be as easy to see in those caves as it would on the dirt. They put on their usual boots and sneakers and sat down along the logs in front of the fires where the dinner was.

"What do we have for dinner, Lincoln?" Clarke asked her friend and who had become like her and the rest of the 100's big brother. Lincoln walked over nodding to the animals roasting. They had agreed that today was Lincoln, Dax, Derek, Coleen, and Jenna's turn to hunt animals. Sure, they had supplies and milk from the villages. But if they didn't hunt regularly, then they'd get out of shape on the matter.

Lincoln answered, "Three boars. Five deer. Three panthas. Five rabbits." Clarke smiled, grabbing a sharpened stick that impaled one of those tiny rabbits. She picked it up and took in the skinned animal's cooked state, aware that the rabbit was cooked enough. She called over to Raven. "Hey, Rae, have you eaten yet?" The dark skinned girl limped over with her cane. "Not yet." She said. "Worried about the brats that we took from those other villages. We had to make sure they ate first." Raven snickered as she walked over, lowering herself down and sitting on the log next to Clarke, putting the cane down on the ground along the log.

Clarke handed Raven the spiked stick with the dead rabbit, smirking. "Tonight was good." She told her friend and nowadays, sometimes lover. "Plains Peoples' tribes have been wiped out. It will only be an amount of time before the Plains People blame the Commander for this." Raven grinned, holding the stick with the rabbit, and leaning close, kissing Clarke, hard, their tongues sliding along each other, Clarke's hand slipping into Raven's shirt and her nails bit into Raven's breast, bringing a moan from the dark skinned girl.

Wells went past Lincoln, not caring about his sister groping someone in public. They had decided to give up all civilized rules after the mountain. The rest of the sky adults knew better than to question their authority by now. They saw Clarke and the other delinquents as their only hope. So they weren't going to complain.

Wells got to the inside of the cave, grateful for the small fire that had been built inside the cave for light. Standing over the many blanketed bundles lined up along the cave's lowest shelf, were Harper, Fox and Myles. Wells grinned at them as Harper sang a quiet lullaby to the sleeping babies. "How are our baby murderers?" He asked, finding the question so strange in that he didn't feel like vomiting over saying it and taking joy in it. Myles smirked. "They're good. We gave them milk from the cows and goats. All fed. All fifty of them. It's going to be so fun when they get big enough to carry weapons." Wells chuckled, looking down at the babies that he would have at one time in his life tried to protect from this life. Now he saw them as tools to use against the rest of the Grounder world.

How sick was that? Very sick. And he didn't care.

"You haven't eaten yet, right?" Fox asked, looking at her new boyfriend, smiling." Wells shook his head when Fox came over and grinded herself up against him. He wrapped his arms around Fox and kissed her. His and Fox's relationship had started a few weeks after their group had first declared war on the Rock Line people. Fox had nervously approached Wells, asking if he wanted to get into a relationship with her. Wells had always liked her and found her attractive. So he had accepted it. Their relationship had been nice and normal. Despite their now ruthless nature, it was almost sweet. Wells really liked Fox. Might even love her.

But he was grateful for her. Any happiness in their lives, all of their lives, they'd take it.

It was the same with Clarke and Raven's relationship. But Wells wasn't stupid. There had always been real intensity between Clarke and Raven. Wells saw the way Raven looked at Clarke, and the way Clarke looked at Raven. If Clarke hadn't been so deeply involved with the Commander and Anya originally, then Clarke might have entered a relationship with Raven.

But it didn't matter now. The two of them were together now.

The night carried on. A night of eating, drinking, jeering, laughing and joking. They took turns rocking the babies back to sleep and feeding the babies, singing to them.

There were five different large caves. All fifty babies were kept in two caves. Twenty-five in one and twenty-five in another. The animals slept in another. The rest of the sky people were split off into five different groups. One group stayed with twenty-five of the babies. The other group stayed with the other twenty-five babies. The other group stayed with the animals. And the other two caves housed the weapons and the supplies. Or just allowed those that wanted, to just have fun having sex, in case any of them wanted not to be seen, despite the public lewdness no longer being frowned upon.

Clarke and Raven were taking up one of the weapon caves for that exact purpose, Dax and Derek guarding the door of the cave to give them privacy.

Raven and Clarke were up against one of the cave's walls, Clarke was working Raven's jeans off. Raven's cane was leaning up against the wall, and hand unbuckled his brace and let it drop to the cave floor. Clarke unzipped Raven's jeans and pulled the older girl's pants down. Clarke went up against Raven's body with her own body, left arm around Raven's waist. Clarke's right hand went where it pleased-between Raven's dark-skinned legs, palm upwards, fingers slipping into Raven's channel, palm against Raven's clit. Raven's gasps hit the cave walls instantly and she buried her face into Clarke's neck. Raven could almost sense the smirk on Clarke's face as the overwhelming pleasure took her.

Deep in the recesses of the cave, Raven's moans could be heard. They were concealed from view, but Raven's whimpers and moans could still be heard. At the mouth of the cave where Clarke and Raven were having sex, Dax and Derek shared a smirk. It was no secret that their leader and their mechanic were usually knuckles deep or face in each other and had been since the destruction of the first Rock Line villages.

Amongst the many couples that had formed in the Sky peoples' group, from Wells and Fox to Clarke and Raven to Lincoln and two sky men, no one was surprised by anything and didn't judge. Why judge? They were outcasts of the world. Hated by all tribes. It was best not to put themselves more under scrutiny. They had each other's backs and that was all that mattered.

So there was no judgment thrown around about the moans all around in the caves or across the campsite where they were staying. Clarke had made it clear to them that they would be moving out the next day. It was too risky to stay here after they had destroyed those villages. Eventually people would start to search around this neck of the woods. And that would be very dangerous for them. If they were found out, it would lead to their deaths. So they were going to travel out of here after tonight. And according to Lincoln, the next safest place would be outside of the boundaries of the tribe territories. At the very end of this country. The incredibly far east part. Even the tribes would not go there. It was supposedly too feared because it was considered unknown.

Clarke said not to risk that yet. It was too soon to investigate such unexplored territory. They'd need more weapons before going there, in case there were any other tribes or hostile forces there. So The plan was to go back into Podakru territory. Destroy a few villages and snatch the babies of a few villages.

They would keep the babies they had quiet with some of the tranquilizers laced into their food and milk.

And if any of the babies died? Well, they could always kill more villages and steal some more of the villagers' offspring.

 **Author's note**

 **So the Sky people are now some serious nightmare fuel. Destroying villages and stealing children. What can I say? Lexa likes making her worst enemies. Wonder if she should see someone and talk to them about that weird fascination she has with doing that.**

 **And anyone wondering about the lands that Lincoln were talking about, it's on the map of the Grounders on the wiki site. The "butt" end of America is considered "unknown territory" by the Grounders. Which means just outside of the lands of the Plains People, the Glowing Forest people and the Lake people, is considered dangerous. Which means it might be safer for the sky people to go there. I'll bring it up again later. But for now, still wiping out time.**

 **I'd like to say that I think we can just accept that the Sky people are now the bad guys. You can't get much worse than this chapter. Even if you understand their reasoning, their prejudice really got out of hand this chapter.**


End file.
